


My Crown On You

by starrymeis (meiqis)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Arranged Marriage, Explicit Sexual Content, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Slow Burn, sort of enemies to husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 44,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27759028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiqis/pseuds/starrymeis
Summary: “I do not want war,” he insisted, speaking the truth that mattered the most at this current moment. Whatever it was he needed to do to persuade the Emperor, Jaehyun was willing to give it a try at this current time.“But you want the crown?” Did he want it? Maybe. At least he had never considered the alternatives, and possibly his lack of answer was the one Youngho had looked for specifically. “What if I offer you my crown?”...and Jaehyun had predicted a lot of events for his life, but to marry the Emperor he had to be wary of was not one of those. Neither the torment brought upon him by his heart and his head yearning for different things.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 18
Kudos: 105
Collections: Coffee Dates Fest [1st Round]





	My Crown On You

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for our lovely Coffee Dates Fest - prompt 0033. My greatest thank you goes to the admins and my prompter for allowing me to write this! The full prompt can be found at the end too. 
> 
> Before you get to reading:  
> The Johnny in this story could be considered as morally ambiguous character, and to the slightest extent this applies to their relationship. Please take this into consideration before you read.  
> The sex scenes include body worship and overstimulation.  
> There is one hinted at depiction of violence in the scene of Jaehyun in town. You might skip the final paragraphs if you feel uncomfortable then.

The breeze, filled with salt, the oily scent of seaweed and flashing perfume of fish, the sand underneath his feet as the waves played push-and-pull against his toes, the rushing of waves that filled his ears, sounded like the echo of his bloodstream when he held a shell to his ear - this was home. Was the place he had grown up, lands that had once been bigger but felt all the same to him, no worries clouding his mind despite knowing he was closer to the border than he had ever been before. Not because he had moved, it was the opposite, was the same rock he had scraped his knee at as a child, was the beach they had visited for picnics when he had been small, so much smaller than now. 

It were fond memories to him, and whenever he visited this place he felt as if he could hear his mother’s voice still, the way she called for him to come back to dry himself with a towel lest he’d catch a cold. They had been rare, the days spent like this, but they meant all the more to him for that same reason, the great joy he had felt to being surrounded by his parents like this. In comparison to many others of his standing, he was lucky indeed, his parents’ workload not too big but straining enough to take up most of their time whilst the sun was still out. 

He missed those times now, not because his parents were slacking off now, neither in their daily nor familial duties, but for his own sake and selfish reasons. Time wasn’t passing on anyone, and sooner than not he’d have to take on all these responsibilities he was allowed to see from the sides only so far, tasks that, bit by bit, where introduced and passed on to him until he was able to do all of that on his own as well. It was a challenge he felt eager to take on, his will to breach his own borders not deterred by the burden those meant, it was why they did training, it was like exercising with weights, going up by the fives until he had mastered even the heaviest of their sort. Anything that could possibly happen now was but training, was the time for him to grow until he was ready to do it all.

At first, for most of his teenage years and youth, it had seemed to be the most intimidating thing of them all, when he had only seen the entirety of it instead of the singular pieces, and every painting looked more impressive lest one takes in the details making it up. It was a reminder to himself, to go step by step, to grow into his tasks bit by bit. Like the biggest weight which had looked so scary at first, by getting to know his limits and abilities, by experiencing the success of every introductory step, he had ended up finding the final challenge not to be terrifying but exhilarating. And the day he had succeeded, as he had closed his hands around the strings keeping the stones in place, to lift them by pulling ropes over bars, he had felt as if he were on top of the world. 

The same feelings that preceded him now, that had his heart fluttering with joy as he was so aware of what would follow over the course of the next weeks - documents to set it all in stone, garments prepared for his sake, notifications sent out to their people, just so the crown could finally rest on top of his head the same way it was destined to since the day of his birth.

If he had known how many things would change, he’d have tried to enjoy this day more. For a piece of glass could only be tested so many times, the steel in between sheer colors holding off only so much of the impact, until the stones thrown would lead to shattering glass. For glass only remained intact for the time it was wrapped delicately in fabric and held in frame by stronger frames. Dreams weren’t too different, they were beautiful illusions while kept safe, but the moment one’s grasp slipped, when the glass was let go off, it would shatter and break. Pieces of a dream adorning the ground, it was no longer salvation but a weapon, shards slicing through skin and flesh and bleeding one dry.

And Jaehyun wished he had held on just a moment longer on that day he had been standing in front of the sear and it’s unmoved masses, enjoyed his freedom for as long as he could inhale the salty air permeating his self. He wished, and wishes were like dreams, so easy to shatter and break into pieces like that. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

The sun was brutally harsh where it met his skin, too hot to be bearable, and it was so misfitting of all he had ever know, he didn’t even know why he was there - on the beach, with his toes curling around sand and the dark waves hitting the sand with too much force. His father had always told him the sea was a calm place but his father was a liar. He shouldn’t be surprised it didn’t bring him any of the peace he had been promised once.

A sound made him look up, joyful and light, and his head turned to find another boy, younger than him, chubby cheeks and wind blown hair. There was a kite floating above them, held by the boy and attached to a red string dancing through the air. It confused him, he had never seen a kid with a structure like this, and that it kept floating was like magic to his eyes. 

_Hey_ , he tried to yell out loud, try to get that boy’s attention, but no sound left his lips. He tried again, and with more intent for a third time, but still there was no sound, was nothing but the rushing of the waves and the howling of the wind, battering the boy’s kite until the string tore. 

There should be disappointment in the boy’s eyes for seeing his toy be taken away, instead there was mild curiosity as honeyed eyes turned his way, childish face curiously tilted to the side. He tried again, wanted to get that boy’s attention, could see plump lips move to mouth words he could not understand, sound that never reached his ears. 

_What are you doing?_ He tried again, his voice a faint whisper in the air, and it was as if he could see it move, like a trail of smoke rising from a blown out candle it wafted over, reached the boy. Instead of slipping into the boy’s ears, it morphed into another gust of wind, and just like the kite moments ago, the boy, too, was blown away, carried away, even further out of his reach. 

That night, he startled awake, with confusion of the likes he had never felt before.

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

Jaehyun hadn’t wanted to believe it at first, not when the herald had delivered the information, neither now that he was seeing the scene he had been told about with his own two eyes. It was not terrifying, it was utter terror, it was seeing what might not be the full force of someone else’s might be used against him, pressuring him, and it had his heart halting within his chest. The sea in front of him was not made of water, it was metal catching onto light and fabric swallowing bright, was the sea in all the wrong colors, was no deep petrol but navy blue that reached out in tents and banners, flags that spanned the open fields marking the old border of their lands. 

“You shouldn’t be here, Jae,” Taeyong called out next to him softly, ironically, when Taeyong had been the one to tag along with him in first place, the first ones to reach the hill Jaehyun’s mare had climbed a whole while ago. It had taken them longer than he had anticipated to catch up with him, but considering Taeyong’s stallion was old, an asset retired from their military duties but the nobleman had a heart too soft to have the animal sent off for that, he had reached fast despite being a slower rider. The margin they had had originally, Taeyong had lost to the guards who had caught up, and Yuta’s eyes already burnt holes into Jaehyun’s back.

 _You’re being reckless, my prince_ and _these aren’t your people, they are the enemy who won’t hesitate_ would be just a few of the phrases he’d get to hear later on, once they had retreated to the safety of the palace again. He knew Taeyong wasn’t right nor wrong, he knew Yuta would most definitely not be wrong, but where else was he supposed to be than here, where the army of the Empire had built their tents and pulled their weapons to prepare to trample all over the lands which were his. Bit by bit, he had seen his country shrink in size, because of this greedy bastard of an Emperor, and he didn’t want to have the last bits taken from him either. Not when these were his lands, his nation, and his folk were his responsibility to guard.

Before these foreign soldiers could run down his nation, and they would inevitably, because his country was by no means up to bar in terms of military strength, no possible threat to their army, and as much as he could, he wanted to reduce the risk that would befall his lands. Behind him, the steps of hooves hitting grass stopped, meaning his guards had arrived, facing more of a responsibility than ever before. With them a herald had arrived, a young boy, barely older than his own brother, and Jaehyun’s heart ached seeing the fear in the young man’s eyes.

“Go,” he asked, softly, because his people did not deserve to see his ugly sides. They always treated him, his family, and the crown well, and he did not want to steep down to the levels of this Emperor who treated his people like scum, neglecting their needs and sending them to war. An Empire of war, they were no more than that, and it was all he had learned to not put his own folk through. Exposing this kid to these unprecedented scenes, he felt bad, and his eyes stayed on the boy walking towards the camp with his two feet, bravely stepping over invisible lines, under the watchful eyes of soldiers until one finally took him along, thin body disappearing between the tents setting Jaehyun’s nerves on fire.

He wanted to slump over in his saddle, ignore that his guards are watching him and just give in to the weakness he feels but he knows he can’t do that, the ideals of behavior almost an enchantment on him, and albeit he feels powerless at the sight splayed out to him, he knows he can’t show the same. Taeyong, knowing him better than anyone else, must have felt the tension stuck between his shoulders and the unease rolling off him in waves palpable only to who’s accustomed to him and his antics. Under the pretense of brushing something off Jaehyun’s shoulders, the older patted the same softly, trying to give encouragement where it was due despite this situation not possibly being easy on any of them.

Depending on how this conversation now would be going, they might get away unscathed, save his father from the shock that might come with having to lead a war they were prone to lose just before retirement. So far, within the short span of time between receiving this information and setting out, he had tried his best to keep it from his father, not wanting to stress his king or cause a fit of rage which Jaehyun felt able to relate to. Because he would very much enjoy screaming his agitation into the sea, about this greedy Empire, always taking and taking and never asking as they just claimed. To now show up, with an army twice the size theirs, it was obvious what they had come for yet again.

Fingers drumming against the sated leather he was sitting on, he kept his eyes on the spot he had seen his herald last, his heart feeling tight with the knowledge that he had sent such young man into enemy territory despite the same being his land. Regardless of distance, he was aware they were attracting attention already, despite his more casual garments, it must be evident of what rank he was, and if it was not the jewelry around his arms and neck, it were the guards who gave away his standings, letting them know he was important, someone to look out for during war. Not because he was a threat, albeit he most certainly could be, but because getting his head would mean honor and victory, and that was something every low soldier in an army like the Empire’s would want to have. 

How much time had passed he wasn’t certain of, but the chirping of a bird called for his attention when they had been surrounded by almost silence for so long, and tweeting like this would only greet the approaching sunset, meaning he had needed to wait for longer than he should. Sending one of his people into enemy camp had him feel horrible enough, if he had to wait any longer he feared he would go crazy, and do yet another reckless deed like riding in there on his own. 

Taeyong, again, must have sensed his strained nerves, fingers curling into the back of his shirt, keeping him in place, because his advisor was stubborn and they both knew Jaehyun wouldn’t risk dragging the older along. “Patience, my prince,” the brunet reminds him softly, and the younger would love to have that. War had not been what he had been prepared for during his training, and the mere idea of turned him restless, thoughts racing and tumbling and stumbling as he tried to find a way to get out of this.

Before, whenever the Empire had approached him, it had been to push borders, to demand more trades, had all been orders they had to heed and he had thought them to be sufficient. In the last letter he had sent, he had explicitly told them he had no more land to give for what little was left they required to sustain his people. It had sounded alright as he had written it, as he had tried to be his utmost polite despite knowing they were just threatening him lest he too, like all the other nations surrounding the Empire, would be wrecked by war. Meeting their demands naively, he had hoped this to be sufficient to keep his people safe, but now he feared he might have pushed doors he had not been supposed to open. 

Attentive as ever, more drawn to detail than he was, Taeyong pulled the back of his clothes to call for his attention, and as quick as the signal had reached him, quite as fast his advisor let go as well. Receiving support from someone below might send the wrong signals, he was aware of that, and the Empire was the last he wanted to appear weak in front of. The same Empire, represented by solely two people, who approached him now to come for the conversation he had requested through the boy. Distance shrinking, Jaehyun could make out more details, could see the braces adorning the dark haired guy’s arms, simple, not meant for showing off - a soldier, and a pretty high ranking one too, else he wouldn’t speak in their Emperor’s name. Worst case, this man was the same to threaten running over his country.

The other looked more amiable and intimidating at once, soft features but stern gazes, fine fabrics of the same color of the tents and flags, declaring his proximity to the crown, to the Emperor Jaehyun had grown to disdain. A scarf pin made of gold, the insignia of the nation itself, and the prince’s fingers tightened around the leather until he could hear the sound of stress between dead and alive skin. His knuckles were white, he was certain of that, veins protruding as he tried to ground himself, and Taeyong’s worried glimpses weighed heavy on his perceived hands.

“Your highness,” the advisor greeted first, horse halting on the tender slope of the hill, below the guards and their guarded, yet the man made the effort of raising himself in his saddle to bow. A sign of respect that seemed out of place, after all, it was the same man who must be directing the path this army was taking, was the one to tell the general to point their sword the sea nation’s way. “I want to deliver you the kindest regards of my Emperor. He could unfortunately not join us for this respectful meeting but I am confident to speak in his place for now.”

It was like a slap with the back of the hand, right after he had been hit by the inside - first an army, now this faux sense of respect, that had Jaehyun reeling back a bit. “I am not here to hear excuses,” the prince denied, his eyebrows pulled together as he looked at the men in front of him with unhidden displeasure, “For why did your Emperor decide there to be a need to put an army on my borders, herald? What purpose do you think yourself to be able to fulfill here?”

This time it was him who could feel Taeyong tensing, could hear the subtle exhale, and he could imagine the friendly smile his friend had put on. “I must apologize for my prince, Sire. He has nothing but his country in mind. The same country you are threatening right now. My prince tried his utmost to keep you pleased throughout the recent years, Sire, so what is it you demand of us today? Did we give you any reason of upset?”

Sneer crossed the soldier’s face, eyes sparkling with dark intents only as the smaller man, and Jaehyun could only think this knight was based on what he could glimpse of limbs distorted by sitting, leaned forward in interest. “ _Upset_? We need no reason of _upset_ to want your pretty country as ours, Sire,” the soldier stated, lips curving into a smile that almost seemed like a naughty feline’s. It was alluring, if the implication behind wasn’t driving rage through the prince’s body like fire taking to oil.

“What do you want then?” Taeyong cut him off before Jaehyun could as much as utter a word. With the emotions currently causing turmoil in his guts, it might be smarter. For all his life he had been taught to show his emotions in private and restrain them in public, to not show weakness to people who he did not trust, to not show kindness to those who hadn’t been kind to him. Following this logic, he should be allowed to be raging as he was treated with such lack of respect, yet he couldn’t, for this were official matters and provocation meant loss, meant danger for his people, and he felt grateful Taeyong was better at this official business than him. 

“We ask for your surrender, your highness,” the advisor stated simply, exhaling these words as if they were a burden to him, too, and Jaehyun wanted to do nothing more than rid this foreigner of such expression with his own hands. As the stranger raised his eyes again, there was no more fatigue, was just coldness of ice and mercilessness of dark steel, “Before we will declare war on you.”

Seething, Jaehyun gritted his teeth, and this time it was him to lean forward in his saddle as he glared at these men. “No.” Simple as it was, _no_ to war, _no_ to surrender, _no_ to any of this. “What you are doing goes against the treaty we signed, and breaching such contract would mean for you to face punishment of your own. Any war needs to be declared by the crown, such are the rules of our continent. So stop talking in your Emperor’s name, and send him here if he wants my land so much.” 

Surprise was over the advisor’s face, surely he hadn’t anticipated such reply when so far Jaehyun had been obedient, had given in because he had thought it to be better for his country, but there were limits that should not be crossed. He wasn’t naive enough to forget about the rules set up by their ancestors, honored for centuries, he wouldn’t allow anyone to treat them like dirt beneath their boots. This expression he was faced with right then, it was more satisfying to the prince than the earlier one, and as it didn’t vanish, he grabbed for his reigns, a signal he was ready to leave, to turn his mare around and head back to the castle he could see towering over the other buildings in the capital. 

He didn’t get that far, had barely lifted his reins as the advisor spoke up again, and this time it was Jaehyun’s mask to splinter and fall - “I’ll take you to him then.”

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

Speaking with utter earnest, Jaehyun would need to admit to his country being no grand one - they didn’t have a lot of influence on the continent, they were just a piece of land in the southeast, gifted with some islands off shore, and their lands just big enough to grant them a place for the capital, for a dozen villages, and fields and woods to grow and hunt for food. Their city wasn’t even grand, was nothing like those he had seen of other countries throughout the few visits he had paid them, their palace like a nobleman’s house compared to the countries in the north, where mining meant business and business meant gold. 

They survived off trades, mostly. One of their islands was known for fine craftsmanship, from glass to jewelry, from metal to fabric, they produced a variety of products which they shipped to many countries, and in turn, they welcomed a lot of ships as well. Fabrics, food, arts and crafts - they received them, bought them, sold them, and it had been sufficient to sustain them for centuries now. They were a simple country full of simple folk, and Jaehyun had always loved it like this, when commoners didn’t treat him like a deity but greeted him like the nephew from next door, when he could just go approach one of the farmers to ask about work and what they needed - it was comfortable, and it was home.

And now he was uncomfortable as he made his way through the camp, allowing his mare to trot after her race mates, as these soldiers looked at him with admiration, respect, disdain and anger, as if he was at fault for their situation. He was reckless - _again_ \- but he could not care less. With no one else by his side, with his guards and Taeyong left on that same hill, unable to follow him as per his demand, he felt more lonely than ever before. These men were not his people, they didn’t know him, they only knew whatever he was supposed to represent in their eyes, and that was nothing he was familiar with. 

In other cities and other countries, he hadn’t had much chance to talk to commoners, didn’t know how royalty and nobility were received there, because he had been too caught up in schedules. Neither had he ever visited the Empire, had only heard the stories of their leader, cruel ruthless bastard, and they terrified him as much as they made him upset. He did not desire to know whether these rumors were true, the mere fact they existed showed that the Emperor mistreated his folk, and for someone knowing of his people’s worth, Jaehyun could not help feel as if the crown was wasted on this unknown man. 

Continuous sight of this hue of blue, it was slowly making him feel sick to the stomach the further they rode down the aisles, until there was a turn to the side, and hidden between greater tents was one undoubtedly luxurious one. A curtain of golden beads kept the flaps of the entrance in place, and the nets that covered the outside of the same must be to ensure no weapon could penetrate the fabric shielding their leader from prying eyes. But merely what he could see with his eyes, so uselessly adorning a place of sleep in camp, must have made up more in worth than his country’s monthly earnings, and it made it all the less understandable what the Emperor thought to gain by claiming his lands.

Inhaling as subtly and deep as he could, Jaehyun took a second to ground himself, reminding himself to remain calm throughout whatever was yet to come, and only then did he dismount his mare. A tilt of the head, a raise of his eyebrows, and he signaled the unknown advisor exactly what he demanded, a silent order the man had no right to refuse so he obeyed. Going inside first, to inform his ruler, it wasn’t long the advisor returned, this time with an arm held out to keep the beaded curtain in place as it was pushed to the side, allowing Jaehyun to step in without being hit.

The insides were as obnoxiously luxurious as the outside, chests adorned with gold, poles stuck in the ground, holding fabrics in place to hide what must be the Emperor’s bed, the chair so heavy he could not imagine it to be moved, and it made him sick. To think such many unneeded things had to be carried by servants and soldiers who must crave to reach home, yet this man could freely dictate them around. The very man Jaehyun had neglected so far to allow himself to school his features as he looked around, and he found the other had not achieved the same.

He had never actually met the Emperor, had neither seen portraits nor pictures, no sketches done by artists, so he could only work with stories to create an image in his mind. An image of a young man when _young_ was so relative when it came to the crown, circlet of magic that could be claimed at any possible age, could be handed to a barely grown child as much as to the father of three, and it distorted the standards too much. A man whose face was covered by a scar, distorting his looks, so utterly hideous it could not be looked at. A man built like a bear, tall and broad, with muscles bulging and strength to lead a sword with ease unto it split a man from crown to toe in half. In ways, the man in front of him was exactly the same and not at all.

For how cruel and cold the Emperor was supposed to be, there was none of that ruthlessness expressed now as the other man looked at Jaehyun in turn, surprise written all over that surprisingly handsome face. Certainly, there was a scar, but it wasn’t as bad as it was made out to be, was a protruding line of thin red barely missing the eye, reaching from the middle of a thick brow to the high of the other man’s cheek. It might as well have been cosmetical with as little as it took of the Emperor’s handsomeness, and good looking he was without doubt, with his slim eyes and full lips. Big build indeed, towering over Jaehyun by an inch or two, but just from body size, the affronted prince was certain he had a chance in a fight. 

“The surprise should be mine to show,” he finally declared, entirely skipping the process of formalities and he could hear the flabbergasted choke from the advisor behind him, he knew he was playing with fire but the respect he had been denied he did not want to display in front of this very man. “Why did you place your army in front of my borders, Your Highness? If I provoked a fight with any of my actions-”

“You did not,” the Emperor interrupted, voice so clear and lacking emotion, finally Jaehyun was able to understand where all that grandeur of the stories came from, because the man in front of him no longer displayed wonder, no. There was only calculativeness mixed into heartlessness, void of feelings, of understanding and empathy. Pair it with the shameless attitude and Jaehyun could feel the hair at his nape rise in displeasure. “In fact, you did nothing to displease me. On the other hand, you were a rather pleasing business partner, young prince. Albeit you surprised me - is it not your father carrying the crown still? Why am I talking to you?”

If at first his upset had been a distant storms, it had at the latest then reached the lands that were Jaehyun’s self-restraint who felt mightless, could only grit his teeth in anguish. “You are well informed,” he tried to say as calmly as possible, still, he could hear the strain in his voice himself, so the dark glint in the Emperor’s eyes came as no surprise. “My father believes in the principles of learning by doing. It is not long before I receive his crown and I better know how to lead my nation before then.”

Without so much as blinking, the Emperor merely asked, “When?” 

A question so simply it was uncanny all the same, it peeved the prince who could only stare at the other casually sitting down in the overweight chair, as if there was no worry in the world, as if the positioning of an army on the borders did not come close to a declaration of war by itself already. “Excuse me?” Jaehyun felt his confusion seep through his tone, felt the strain it was to not frown at the other. _Emotions are meant to be released in private_ , he reminded himself, although the same could not be said about the way he gripped onto pearls hanging loosely from a circlet around his wrist.

“When are you due to wear the crown?” The Emperor repeated, and something hidden in those words, in this peculiar tone, a message meant to be deciphered, had bells of alarm chime within Jaehyun’s mind, ringing loudly and having his posture stiffen.

Regardless, he had no right to refuse answering, could not when he did not know what the purpose of that same question was. With a bit of reluctance, fingers twitching around his pearls, he finally answered, “Solstice.”

There was no obvious reaction on the Emperor’s face and, moments like these, Jaehyun scorned how well the royal families taught their children, to not show emotions, to act only in the best interest of their countries, without consideration, without letting anyone glimpse at the cards they held and played. Because it made it so much harder to figure out what the cruel ruler desired, because even the most obvious reason explained would do nothing to uncover the hidden intentions behind such reason, “So if I declare war on your father, you would not receive the crown, my prince?”

Not being able to help it, the uncrowned gritted his teeth, the shameless persistence towards a war they must both know would entirely eradicate his kingdom once it was started. It was the one thing he wanted to avoid to the best of his abilities. “I do not want war,” he insisted, speaking the truth that mattered the most at this current moment. Whatever it was he needed to do to persuade the Emperor, Jaehyun was willing to give it a try at this current time.

“But you want the crown?” The older asked again, young enough to be reckless like this, old enough to have their difference show, as miniscule as it was. But Jaehyun had no answer to this question, it was not a query he had ever spent time on, for receiving the crown was simply the purpose of his life, the one moment he had learned, trained and prepared for, and he had done so without questioning it. Did he want it? Maybe. At least he had never considered the alternatives, and possibly his lack of answer was the one Youngho had looked for specifically. “What if I offer you my crown?”

Like a horse skittering on wet ground, Jaehyun’s thoughts came to one messy halt, trying to catch up with what had just happened but it only left him confused, thoughts all tangled up and cut off at once. This time, he did not hold back his frown as he looked at the Emperor looking so relaxed - superficially. They were just the same when it came down to it, facial expressions nothing but a mask hiding their inner turmoil, their body language untelling, but it were the little things, the way Jaehyun held onto his pearls, or the way the Emperor jerked his foot with every meaningful admission.

“I am not saying you should challenge me for my title, of course,” the older stated, gold adorned hand waving as if to brush away such idea, “That would only result in you losing your pretty head, young prince. But if you give yourself to me, the merger of our families would naturally mean your country to be protected. It sounds rather good to me.”

There it was, the hidden meaning to it all, and like a fish taking the bait, Jaehyun had fallen into the trap lain for him. Frozen in place, even the moment around his pearls had stopped as he simply stared at the older, took in the supposedly calm appearance, behavior casual to everyone but him. Like holding a shell near one’s ear and hearing the echo of their own blood rushing, an empty construct filled with an illusion of nothing, his head seemed stuffed when it was void of all thoughts at once, and even the sight of the Emperor a mere few feet out of his reach seemed fuzzy around the edges.

“What do you say, my prince? Do you want to marry me?”

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

“You did _what_? Are you out of your fucking mind, Jaehyun? You have _responsibilities_ and marrying some fucking dimwit-”

Slowly, Jaehyun allowed Taeyong’s angry voice to fade out, the scolding he had already mentally prepared himself for one he might as well have recited on his way back to the palace, where he had reported not only to his advisor but his parents as well. It was the man who had grown up by his side, studied with him, grown into all these activities alongside him, to give him the tirade of his life, not his father who looked equally as grim. Only his mother’s gaze was filled with worry, nimble fingers that nervously played around the seam of her light scarf as they all took in Taeyong verbalizing their thoughts into words. Crude words nonetheless, as not even the king himself dared to be as forward with his song, such was the privilege of a close friend only.

“...don’t even know what his actual intention is with this! Fuck, Jaehyun - why do you think he asked for your hand in marriage when every other country was just run over without second thought?” The older finally asked, body slumping in defeat with his hands only supporting his weight on the back of a chair, finely carved wood looking too fragile underneath tense fingers. Taeyong looked defeated for lack of a better word, and yet they were all aware this might be their only option out.

With a grunt, Jaehyun buried his face in his own hands before he recalled better, brushing back his hair instead as he looked at his parents in misery. “I _had_ to do it… We all know the peace treaty failed so what other option do we have?” He smiled wryly when, honestly, he felt like crying instead. He had been supposed to carry the crown, be named an adult the same moment he was called the new king, and his father would get to resign to one of their residences on the islands in a few years, once everything was assured to run smoothly. Instead, everything thrown over, they had to make with new plans, had to raise his brother into bearing the crown, had to sign new treaties - had to see their son leave home first when it was supposed to be the other way around.

“Jaehyunnie… my darling baby,” his mother whispered softly, her steps almost soundless as she crossed the room to sit down next to her son, arms soothingly wrapping around the prince. _A mother’s embrace can cure all grief_ , a saying in their country promised, and whilst it was not like a simple hug would just diminish the promise of marriage Jaehyun had already concluded, it was reassuring enough to know that, regardless of any and all circumstance, his mother would forever pose a safe haven, a warm place from him to return to. A sacred place, saving island for a ship caught in a storm. 

His father ended up breaking the silence, heavy sigh that left the king’s lips as he leaned back on the couch, void of the energy that had been sucked out of all of them. “How long do we have?” Until the promise of marriage has to be fulfilled went unsaid, an unspoken truth like a bubble none of them wanted to burst lest it create more damage than it had done good. 

“Until all formalities are dealt with…” Inhaling deeply, Jaehyun brushed back his hair for one last time before he carefully parted from his mother’s arms, a careful glimpse outside showing the sun was close to disappearing, and once it did fate would have caught up with him. “I’ll take care of it, father, so I hope you can trust me last time. For now, I should get changed and… welcome my future husband...” It pained him to say the same but their empathetic gazes hurt almost the same, emotion he was not used to receive, and pity was not a thing he wanted to come close to being at the receiving end of. 

With a little bow of his head he bid farewell to his parents and advisor to leave the room, ignoring the tired calling for his name from the latter. For him, there had been enough talking for the day, and knowing that the Emperor would get on his way here once the sun had set, as per Jaehyun’s request not to rouse too much attention just yet, he wanted to enjoy his last moments of freedom, under whatever pretense they were supposed to come. Static noise, the rushing of the sea he wished to hear filled his mind as he reached his room, quiet in the way he took off his garments and washed his face with water so cold he felt like his fingers might freeze off with the extensive time he left his hand soaking in the wet. His skin was wrinkly by the time he managed to look up and take in his appearance presented to him through the mirror, one part of the white of his eyes dyed red, making him look eerie with the lack of light but, more importantly, he finally noticed the figure behind him.

Sungchan had always been better at remaining silent than him, or maybe it was simply that being the crowned prince he had always attracted more attention. Such was a title that would soon change places, from him to his brother, from older to younger, and all his prayers would be with his baby sibling to be able to carry such burden with ease.

“Taeyong yelled,” Sungchan stated without further idea, eyes curious as they met Jaehyun’s through the silvery glass, and it went unsaid that Taeyong yelling was a rare enough occurrence. In fact, the amount of times it had happened were countable on two fingers and the first time included the crowned prince almost killing him by accident. He still refused to accept that jumping off a cliff might have ended with anything worse than some bruised bones. 

Fatigued as he felt, Jaehyun tried to smile reassuringly nonetheless as he turned around to look at his brother, his fingers meeting soft hair the same shade as his in passing. His wardrobe, filled with the finest of fabrics they could possibly produce and by, all of them felt lacking when he thought back to the abundance of gold in the Emperor’s tent, the unapologetic display of wealth when just one piece of furniture must be enough to feed a poor family for half their lives - for all their lives if they were on the more frugal side. Eventually it was his own overthinking that bothered him, fingers clasping around a pair of simple pants and a dress shirt shimmering like pearls, their charm not exuded by their countless applications but the simplicity, the quality of fabric and design.

“Sungchan.” A simple call of name, sometimes it was indeed simplicity that asked for attention, and Jaehyun felt just that as he tucked the fabric of his shirt into his pants and turned around to face the younger, expression more serious than his heart could possibly feel at the numbing rate it was beating. “Congratulations are in order. You’ll carry my crown in a few years past.”

There was shock written all over his younger brother’s face and this one, this expression of surprise and bafflement, it seemed to be his constant companion this very day. His own. His general’s and the Emperor’s, Taeyong’s and his parents’, and now he couldn’t spare even his younger blood from such reaction that was meant to overcome them all bit by bit. As much as he could, Jaehyun tried to pay it no mind as he held out his hand to his brother, beckoning the younger to get up from the bed as he said, “I’ll show you the reason why, Sungchan. It’s better manners if you come along anyways.”

Just like his mother’s embrace, the warmth of his brother’s hand against his own was grounding, reminding him of why he was doing just this, well aware that burdening the younger with the crown was a task easier to accomplish than having no life to lead in first place. Once they were run over by war, it would be over, and he’d much rather see his brother alive than dead. A simple touch, it brought him reassurance and settlement, content with knowing he had made the right decision for his own country if not for himself. Such was the burden of the crown and even if it were not silver hammered into shells and waves that would adorn his head, it would forever remain a reminisced presence closed around his heart. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

There were seventy-eight seashells along the shore, of that little restricted part he had access to. Not that he had ever ventured further, more because there had been a lack of interest than any need to. All he wanted was already presented to him, came in the form of the boy- well, he was no longer a boy, but to him that boy would always remain one, with his flushed chubby cheeks and sparkling eyes, hair still tussled by the wind. The man was screaming out, veins protruding, throat an angry red, but no sound reached his ears. 

Somewhere above them, the seagulls were cawing, almost as if they were mocking them and their lack of sound. He had long since given up on trying to communicate with the boy but in his mind he had made up many theories already, of this boy with honeyed eyes and pale skin. He had learned to take his time to take note of the simple changes, some of which had happened without his taking note of. Chubby arms had given way to fabric stretching for different reasons, wind blowing, showing off a figure that would have otherwise been hidden from his sight. The boy was too pale to be a farmer, could be a fisherman, heading out at night, but those same hands did not show signs of tending nets or bending hooks. The only thing he knew was that the boy must live near the sea, at some place promising serenity on some days, denying him the same on others.

Today was such a day, with the skies not clear and bright, rather they were covered by stormy clouds, thunder roaring in tandem with the man screaming his upset into the ocean. Some people truly were gifted, it didn’t seem fair that someone looked this handsome still despite being so angry. Still, he wished he knew how to soothe the upset out of the boy’s system, relief the anguish tormenting him. He didn’t have any idea how to do that, even if he did, they couldn’t even communicate… So he just sat down, crouched down, arms around his legs, and watched the boy release his wrath into a world nobody could take notice of it at. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

There was a small yard hidden within the frames of the palace that had become one of his favorite places to retreat at, with fine fabrics spun across the open walkways on the second floor that shielded him from the sun without hindering any of her light all the same. Almost all of the palace had recognized it as his spot at this point, his mother having bit by bit adjusted its looks to his preferences, until soft yellow flowers were blooming in raised beds, and cushions were placed on lightweight wooden structures for him to relax on as he rested outside. Resting was a far fetched term for it, though, when he was surrounded by countless papers, ink splotches decorating the light colored linen from whenever he had spilled on them. Only after his third time of spoiling a new set had he refused to have them replaced again, well aware he would simply keep dripping black smudges on pristine fabric anyways.

Normally, by looking forward, he would be presented with the faded color of joy, looking so lively on countless petals nonetheless, instead he found their reflection in pale hair glowing golden beneath the dimmed sunlight, bright green replaced by infinitely dark eyes and this horrible shade of blue. Ever since his sight had been obscured, there has been silence between them, and whilst Jaehyun was not against the same as it allowed him to focus better as he skimmed through papers, through previous contracts of marriage to find all the points he was demanded to address and filter those he meant to include, and made notes on two different sets of papers. 

It was only when he lowered his glassen quill that he regarded the Emperor with attention again, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat when he found the same one already looking at him. Getting stared at was nothing new to him per se, it simply made him uncomfortable when he had no idea what lie behind those eyes so stubbornly observing him, eyes dark and void of thought he could interpret. “I do hope you’re enjoying your stay here, Your Highness,” Jaehyun decided to start with, not wanting to jump into cold water just like that, regardless of how much it itched him to just get this over and done with. For now, though, until the ceremony, he had to play nice, had to keep attentive to this man he could not read and who made the prince uncomfortable with matters as simple as looking down at the swirled glass he was wiping clean with a wet towel. 

“I would enjoy it more if I had you closer to me,” the older said, as if it were as simple as talking about the weather. To Jaehyun it was nothing but mindless flattery, something to charm him, and momentarily he halted his movements as it made him wonder whether he’d have done the same the day he would have been about to court the princess his parents should have ended up choosing for him. “But since I did not expect much of your palace, I guess you can say I was positively surprised anyways. And your meals seem rather boring without some drinks to accompany them.”

For a short moment, Jaehyun had prided himself in his self-control, only the same left him as the glass broke between his fingers, sharp edges of the clear solid that scratched along his skin. It had him grit his teeth and cover it all up with a smile as he simply dipped his fingers into the water he had taken his wet towel from. Despite his own pain, he didn’t miss out on the quickly hidden surprise on the other’s face, neither on the way the Emperor’s eyes darted down to his scathed hand, for something else was more important to him, and with his healthy hand the prince reached for the shorter list of notes taken to hand over. “As I told you, I have conditions. The sooner you agree the sooner I can tell our seamstress to get us ready for marriage.”

Curiously he looked at the navy clad man whose lips had parted and closed amidst his own demands, as if the Emperor had been ready to interrupt him before thinking better of it, only speaking up once the younger was done talking for good. “I don’t care what is written on this paper, my prince. If it means I can put my crown on you, I will agree to them all.”

Fingers twitching in cold water, there was a short splashing sound that called for the blond’s attention minutely. “You didn’t read them,” Jaehyun forced out, and whilst he knew that formalities mattered regardless of reason, that regardless of the Emperor’s acceptance written proof was required, it was upsetting to have studied all of this for almost two days without any rest, having to prepare all this proof and backing for his demands, and just like that they were accepted. It should make him happy but it did not, he might as well have asked for a thousand dozen ducks if his wishes were treated so thoughtlessly. 

“I did not.” It was so easy, the Emperor made it seem so easy, all these matters that Jaehyun had to stress about - they were nothing but child’s play to the man who could conquer their whole continent with an ease that wasn’t fair. Like this, the high of victory acclaimed a new meaning, and it was by no means a good one, was the neglect of other people’s opinion due to the simple knowledge of having the upper hand. “Should I?” Cocky, so cocky, in the way the older raised one eyebrow questioningly - mockingly.

“Your Highness,” Jaehyun started and pulled his hand out of the bowl finally, his eyes focused on the diluted red that dripped from his fingertips, “unless you want to run the risk of me cutting your throat at night, I recommend not just brushing my desires off like meaningless dust.”

“I appreciate you wanting to share my bed, my prince, but rest assured I would not mind to search your body night and night again.” Still, following these words was the fluttering of paper being adjusted, and when Jaehyun looked up he could see the Emperor look at the paper indeed. A small victory, but one nonetheless, and the brown haired indulged it for another moment before he turned to the servant who had brought him a little tray with a clean towel and bandages, nimble hands going to work at carrying away what was no longer needed.

Bemused snort interrupting their silence, Jaehyun looked up only to be met by the Emperor’s stern gaze and this obnoxiously remaining raised eyebrow. “ _The right to return home without any harm falling upon your country in case I mistreat you_? And what, my prince, do you consider mistreatment that would call for such drastic measurements when it was you who just threatened me with murder?”

Anyone else might have quivered being looked at as intently, but Jaehyun had made it an unfortunate habit of rushing into situations, acting without thinking, learning by doing, even if such doing included mistakes, they always equal something he could learn from. “Insulting the honor of me as a man and me as a noble,” he started as he picked up the dry towel to pat at his little wounds carefully, “Violence of any sort. Improper behavior. And I won’t allow you forcing yourself onto me by any means, Your Highness. The moment you disregard the pledge we will take, I will leave, and you won’t have no rights to hold me back.”

“That would be quite tragic, my prince,” the older responded, voice anticipatory calm, it were his actions that were surprising. For the moment Jaehyun attempted picking up the bandages, another hand was blocking his way, effectively shutting him up and freezing him at once as he could only observe the Emperor, the high and mighty, the cold and ruthless, the personification of a nightmare, grasp the fine gauze to unroll and wrap around his fingers, tying delicate knots around slender fingers. “Because I’ve looked for you for too long to let go of you just like that, my prince.”

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

There was something fascinating about the faded white pearls contrasting the heavy blue jewelry nestled between his collarbones, the way old met new, something borrowed and something blue. Inadvertently he had to smile as he fiddled with the pearls stitched onto the fine mesh of his shirt, the memories of his childhood days resurfacing in his mind as he recalled the little rhyme that was as much tradition as it bore resemblance to their nations mindset, the everlasting change of generations, the way trades were nothing but borrowed goods and the blue resembled the sea they so heavily relied on. The pearls he was touching, the ones that had been reused time and time again in marriage dresses, stitched into new designs every generation, and their match he knew to find on the Emperor’s suits in a few hours time. They were old, they were borrowed, to be handed back to their treasury and kept there for the next marriage of their kingdom to experience. They contrasted his accessories, the blue glass perfectly cut and lined by swirled gold, coins he had needed to talk his soon-to-be husband into donating as dowry so their craftsmen could create this wonderful piece.

It almost hurt him to say that it was perfectly fit, the glass that was of deep blue but translucent all the same, showing the finely woven metal on both sides, the colors he knew were meant to resemble the Empire he was marrying into. The man whose hand he was to receive in just a little while… Even this piece had come with the price of discussions, with the older insisting the buy the finest of sapphires and Jaehyun outright refusing for they did not have the time for that, for his kingdom was known for their craftsmanship in blowing glass not mining and digging out expensive gemstones. He was not the kind to overindulge himself, quite contrary to the man known to burn down lesser nations without guilt, and while these stories of terror and fright had his stomach dropping like a boulder in the sea, he knew better than to let emotions overcome him now.

Behind him, a faint gasp resonated, and simply twisting his upper body was a strain thanks to the train of pearl decorated fabric attached to his shoulders, the one that was supposed to go on a bride’s wedding dress. But there was no bride, was only him, and as shameful as it was, he knew his position was closer to that of a princess than the Emperor, for it was the daughter to leave her parental home to live with her husband - for it was him to leave behind the crown he had been supposed to wear to replace it with a different one. A heavy one, as he had been promised by the Emperor with darkly shining eyes, so intent on spoiling Jaehyun rotten as if he were interested in all these matters at all...

His mother’s warm eyes were shining with tears, her pale golden clothes, the color of sun sparkling underneath the setting sun, contrasting his too much. They were more simplistic, befitting their royal spirits, they stood out with the way they reflected the light so beautifully, and the sight of which had him realize with a start that all of his outfit had been intentional, was meant to show him off, to portray him as the precious piece of chess he was supposed to be. The prince was not certain whether he wanted to reel back in distress at this realization or bathe in arrogance for despite their simpler lives they still had so much to offer. 

“I did not think I’d have to send you off like this,” the queen whispered, her voice more faint than Jaehyun had ever heard it. Even after his brother’s birth, despite his own young age he could recall it clearly, she had sounded strong and collected as she had taken him into her bed despite having gone through excruciating hours just prior. “Jeong Jaehyun… What a fine man you have become, my son. My beautiful selfless son-” A sob interrupted her little speech, affection bursting into pain, little bubbles ruined and wrecked, the echo of which sent a jolt through his heart as well.

Taking her into his arms, he didn’t dare speak, too afraid his voice would break quite like hers, his last walls of strength crumbling down due to familial affection which must be a concept so foreign to the Emperor who had sent his own general stumbling to the side with an open handed hit to the cheek for as much as a mistake made on rations. Merely seeing it, Jaehyun had been raging with anger, quickly stepping in to call for his betrothed’s attention, regardless of the defiant gaze he received from the blood spitting his help had not been appreciated much. What a cruel country he was meant to move to soon…

“Mother,” he whispered, words controlled lest his own tears slip through and his affected state seep through, “I love you. Thank you,” he mumbled, his lips against her forehead as he pressed a tender kiss to her skin, “for taking care of me for this long. I’ll make sure to go on proudly on my own.” The last syllables almost ended with him choking on his tears, and he hurriedly blinked away the wetness in his eyes as his lips pulled into one watery smile. “Don’t make me look ugly on my wedding day…”

His mother, albeit her throat was still audibly tight, snorted in amusement, expression full of sad love but this time it was her to no longer reply, her trembling hands produced a handkerchief instead to tap away at the tears pooling at the edge of his eyes. She didn’t say it but it was evident in her eyes, through layers of warmth shone pride and endearment, infinite motherly love directed at him as her fingers caressed across his cheek in an attempt of calming him down. 

They must have been lost in the moment for longer than he had first thought, last time he remembered he had more time left before his grand moment, regardless, a knock against the heavy doors of the dressing room called for their attention, quickly followed by Taeyong’s muffled voice. “Jaehyun? Can we go?” _We_. Taeyong, his most trusted friend, who had accompanied him throughout almost all of his life, who would be leading him down the aisle too soon in lieu of his father leading the ceremony instead.

One last caress to his cheek, the tender brush of a gloved thumb beneath his eye. Farewell. “I’ll be going first,” his mother whispered and, in the same breath, she reached for his hand to press a short kiss to his knuckles, the scent of sea salt and vanilla without doubt reaching her nose thanks to the scents he had been doused in as the servants had him washed and the seamstress put him into his clothes, all leaving him to tend to his betrothed next.

There was a woeful curl to her lips as she picked up her skirts, not befitting the weather at all, and headed for the door, the opening of which revealed the sight of his advisor dressed in the same pale gold as his mother. A simple suit, dress pants and a shirt brought together by a shawl wrapped around the waist adorned Taeyong, an outfit that was elegant by itself but would too soon be drowned out by the pompousness that were Jaehyun’s own wedding clothes. 

His best friend’s expression was more somber than his mother’s, reflecting all the lack of happiness at such supposed joyful day, the unhidden knowledge of their crowned prince waging his own future for the flourishing survival of their kingdom. “We should go,” the older called softly, bleached out hair brushed back and making the hard lines of the advisor’s face stand out. “Better get this over with as soon as possible, I’d say.” Then, after a prolonged moment of seeing Jaehyun struggle with the weighted trail, the sternness gave way to light amusement, and Taeyong added, “Need help?”

“Shut up,” Jaehyun grumbled, all bite and no bark, he was merely trying to rearrange the cluttering pearls and artificial shells to drag behind him instead of cluttering his ways. The fabric weighed heavy on his shoulders, albeit he considered this to be the easiest task of his future starting now, the line towards a new life he was approaching with every step he took, and not even the way he shyly reached for Taeyong’s hand to ground him, fingers entwining in the empty space between them, took any of that burden off his shoulders. A crown would be troublesome to bear but the weight of an Empire weighed worse, slowed his steps the closer they got to the ballroom where few but important people would await them, leading counselors, the rich and the mighty of their little land, all prying into this spectacle coming upon them out of the literal blue. Too many people despite their low count regardless, especially when he had hoped to get through this in attendance of his family alone.

Little bells chiming, a faint ringing sound, meant not to be overbearing but to call for settlement, when all they resembled were the jittering of his nerves. Taeyong’s fingers, squeezing around his hand for one last time. Beating of his heart, too fast and heavy for his liking. Weight on his shoulders, pearls catching onto his hair as he brushed back some strands for one last time. It was now or never, now or his nervousness would make him freeze in place like the frozen droplets coming upon them from the skies during the colder seasons every year again. 

Warm hand on his back, he could feel Taeyong guiding him forward, reminding him to keep his cool when already his eyes had hardened as he saw his future personified in the Emperor standing so close to his father. What kind of ironic sight it was - the Emperor he was so used to seeing clad in navy now dressed in the colors he was so acquainted with, faded white and countless pearls interrupted only by the sated blue band around the waist, holding the sword that seemed to wink at him with mockery. A sword of the likes that might have soon come down upon his father’s neck if not for these preventative measurements. Seeing it sheathed instead of drawn calmed his heart, the golden cuff around the matted blade reminding him to do this for peace, for his kingdom. For the crown that had been supposed to be his. 

All too soon the supportive heat of his best friend’s palm was gone, replaced instead by calloused fingers gripping his own and Jaehyun had half a mind to flinch back before he remembered better. Whilst he might be aware of the truth behind this bond, in quite the same way as his and the Emperor’s closest people were, he wasn’t certain what they had told their guests, whatever illusion it was that had been cast, he didn’t want to be the one to break it by pulling away. Instead, he took one deep breath before clasping his fingers around the older’s hands, and he was not spared seeing the satisfied glint within those infinitely dark eyes. Satisfaction. Possessiveness. They came as soon as they disappeared, and they were all Jaehyun could think of even as he recited with faked enthusiasm whatever his father wanted him to. 

Let the people believe this to be a day of joy, after all, had it not been the reason they had come here for?

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

Jaehyun was silent as he eyed his newly wed husband stepping out of the bathroom, and despite there being a towel wrapped around the Emperor’s hips, it was lost effort for the way the fabric was so thin and sticking to wet skin, leaving little to the imagination and driving the heat up the prince’s neck. Albeit such was likely no longer the title he carried, not with their wedding accomplished, their bond sealed, the pearl dangling from the blond’s ear mirroring his own. It was one way less obtrusive mark of marriage, not to mention how much beloved these pearls were within his kingdom, a treat they rarely sold, so common in his lands but so rare everywhere else. 

Like this, golden hair turned into light brown from water dripping wet, droplets cascading down defined muscles, the Emperor sure was the very image of masculine ideals - height, width, strength. The countless scars that were a depiction of victory, of survival and gain. A reminder of cruelty and ruthlessness that had Jaehyun lowering his head in displeasure, not wanting to get reminded of the ruthlessness of the man he had wed. 

Slowly he pushed himself onto his knees, movement that called for the other’s attention if the heated gaze was anything to go by, and Jaehyun had to reprimand himself not to falter beneath the greed he could feel his exposed skin being taken in with. Skin he was slowly revealing more of as he reached down for the sash keeping his gown in place, crisp white he pulled apart carefully, allowing the fabric to slip off his shoulders and reveal all of his body for his husband to take in. “We gave our oath earlier, Your Highness, and I promised you all of me. Based on the traditions of my land, this means that you’re also free to demand for this everything,” he spoke slowly, voice more steady than he had first anticipated, even when he raised his gaze to look at the imperial royal.

There was unkempt greed within the Emperor’s eyes, desire that was not held back as those same fear inducing dark eyes traced all over his body, starting shivers to run down his spine. Countless times he had been told to be beautiful, handsome, a prospering ruler for their country, but no one had ever dared to be as shameless, a figurine put on a pedestal, art hung up on royal walls, jewelry never meant to be worn. It was an exclusive right, and no one would have dared to taint him, and neither had Jaehyun thought he could ever be looked at like this. Compared to their first encounter, standing in the Emperor’s tent and bargaining for the future of his country, this was a different kind of thrill, and he was not sure what to make of it right then.

“All of you?” The other repeated carefully, and were it not for the wetness clinging to skin, Jaehyun might have not heard how the older stepped closer, and the dip of the mattress he was kneeling on would have caught him more off guard. Weight shifting on the soft surface, he felt the dip from the other coming closer, until fingers wrapped around his chin with surprising gentleness, forcing the prince to raise his head. “Are you sure? Because I won’t guarantee to be able to stop myself once I start, young prince.”

There was something about this nickname, about being called a prince when that same title had been more or less stripped off him, that had the brown haired bristle lightly. “Is that still my title, Your Highness? Am I only a prince to you now too?” He asked, and he could feel the spark returning to his own gaze as he looked up to meet his husband’s eyes indeed. “But I am sure, Your Highness. This is our tradition so I-” He stopped, suddenly remembering the embarrassment he had felt earlier as well, in between retreating from his own wedding celebration, returning to his room to shed his heavy clothes, and settling on his bed, and it was this shyness that had him look down again. Regret washed over him, his gaze locked on plush lips, and the words of the servant taking care of him echoed in his mind. “I was told it might hurt between men so we took measurements and-”

Immediately, the grip around his chin tightened, and Jaehyun felt his head tilted further, until even his looking downwards was no escape to the Emperor’s harsh gaze. Cold but glistened over, the icy mercilessness and heat of something else, pooling together at once, making all of the prince’s senses tingle, triggering his response of _fight or flight_ canceled out only by the responsibilities ingrained to his self for so many years. “ _We_? Someone else helped you?”

“A servant-” The brown haired started, only to be interrupted by one warm thumb pressing against his lips, trapping his lower one, a sign that was not hard to interpret, the demand for him to be silent at once.

“If we were in my palace,” the Emperor said slowly, gravely, the tone of a hunting animal trapping its prey, cornering it into a corner in quite the same way the blond forced the younger backwards, until he was spread out on the sheets, and the Emperor was kneeling above him, emphasizing on who between the two of them held onto the better set of playing cards, “I would have cut off their hands for touching what is mine. So I hope you won’t make the same mistake again, my prince, because I assure you there’s no way I would ever harm you in any humanly possible way.”

It didn’t sit right with Jaehyun, to hear the threat directed at someone else, to have to fear for someone else’s well being merely for his husband was such a cruel bastard, and yet, when his lips were claimed in one bruising kiss, any and all protest slipped his mind. Kissing like this - no, kissing at all - was new to him, and the vigor the older displayed was not something he thought himself able to catch up with just yet. It was as if he was hit by lighting, all his nerve endings alight, blazing bright, as he felt the pressure on his mouth, teeth grazing his skin, tongue licking and prodding, until he couldn’t hold back the gasp that left him. A failure, and like in war, any opening meant loss, the territory they were fighting for, the territory of his mouth, entirely overrun as he felt his husband’s tongue push forth, claiming his oral cavern and exploring it all at once. 

Such onslaught of sensations had him scrambling for hold, fingers twisting into the sheets, until even the blond caught on to it. “Hold on to me,” the older demanded and, when Jaehyun did not immediately react, his hands were moved forcefully, grip too loose to hurt but too harsh to be disregarded, as his palms were placed on wet and warm skin. This time, when the Emperor dove in for another kiss, Jaehyun tried to hold up, tried to give back in the same way he had received, albeit it too soon became overwhelming, too much too fast, his fingers involuntarily holding on tighter, nails digging into skin, and when he heard the satisfied grunt vibrating against his lips he realized there were different strategies to go about this entirely. 

Lightly he shook his head when the Emperor let up this time, not sure he could take another round of right then, and such was a decision he was quick to regret, when instead of his lips it was his chin to get kissed, his jaw, down his neck. By instinct he leaned back, offered more of his skin, the moist and soft sensation he was not used to that eradicated any and all of his thoughts at once, and he momentarily cursed at whoever hadn’t told him it could feel _good_ , make him lose his mind from so little already, couldn’t tell whether this was normal or just _him_.

“You’re sensitive, my prince,” the older observed, voice gravelly, sounding wrecked in the same way Jaehyun felt, who had half a mind to utter his own name, causing the other to halt momentarily. “Did you say something?”

“Jaehyun…” The prince whispered, allowing his eyes to fall shut as he held on tighter instead, fingers twitching with nervosity. It wasn’t unlikely, marrying without knowing one’s partner was common, but with someone surrounded by so many rumors, when he himself had seen how forward the Emperor could be with showing his displeasure, he was not certain where his own lines were placed just yet. The balance they kept was a fragile one, for as much as he had been proven to receive special treatment, it was hard to tell how much of it might just prove to be an act at one point in time. “Just… call me that.”

“ _Jaehyun_ ,” the Emperor repeated, and maybe the one called regretted his decision right then, hearing his name said like that started a turmoil within him, his body against his mind, his heart trapped in between. He was reacting stronger to this man than he could have ever imagined, physical reactions all too evident, it was his head unwilling to accept that he might actually be able to receive pleasure from this brute of a ruler. “What a pretty name for such a pretty prince…”

Teeth digging into his neck had Jaehyun grunt lowly, mixture of pleasure and pain shooting down his spine, accumulating into whirls of heat low in his guts. All the many unknown sensations were perplexing, the last time he had been bitten had been when roughhousing as children, carrying none of this sensuality, and he almost missed out on the next question that was asked, “...planning on forever calling me by my title?”

Some seconds passed of him just trying to process the question and derive the sense of it, some seconds too long with how his back was arching right the next moment, when he felt the double onslaught on his chest, the wet warmth and rough pressure on both his nipples from where they were treated each with more or less care. “Don’t- don’t know your name- Your Highness, you-” He groaned when the pressure on both rose, unhinged satisfaction growing within his chest at knowing he was able to challenge and rile up the other despite feeling awfully overwhelmed at this current moment.

“Youngho. Say it, Jaehyun. Say my name.” It was an order much rather than a wish, a demand he could not refuse, and neither did the shaking male intend to when he was reminded of his sensitive state once he saw the Emperor tower above him, kneeling on his haunches, wavering self-control evident in the way those dark eyes never left his marked up skin. If this was the same look the crowned man would wear on the battlefield, filled with bloodlust instead of desire, Jaehyun too might think twice about picking a fight. Unfortunately, the one to hesitate was almost always the one to lose, and it made him upset to feel as if he was at the older man’s mercy - and receiving it, if the twitching fingers refusing to touch his unmarred skin were anything to go by.

Slowly his gaze traced up, taking in the sight of chiseled strength even more defined than his own, amplified by water and a tender tan, so unlike his own predisposition to remain pale despite spending hours underneath the sun. He did not receive her kiss, and by all means, he had a feeling his husband would make up for it plentiful. “Make me,” he challenged instead, because he did not like to be commandeered around, not when he had never really had anyone above him in hierarchy. Just because he had married, because he had lowered his head for his home, he was not about to just give in. Maybe it made him more attractive to a man who was not used to being refused, maybe it was a dangerous game he playing, and most likely it was a mixture of both if Youngho’s darkened eyes were anything to go by. 

“Trust me, my prince, I will.” A promise, so dark, telling of ruin and wreckage, yet it was not the kind to leave him standing amidst crumbling fires and broken ruins. A promise of a high Jaehyun was not ready for and still, he felt unable to react as he merely watched, took in the way the Emperor slid down the sheets some more, until he was at a level that allowed him to kiss along the younger’s smooth thighs with ease. 

“You said your servant prepared you?” Youngho asked, and Jaehyun nodded, his eyes wide as he simply looked at the blond kneeling between his legs, at that handsome face’s expression moving into a more sinister one, content in all the ways, and he only realized why when two fingers were pushed past his rim without hesitation, reaching deeper than what he had felt earlier, and with an aim that should be cursed, white hot pleasure blazed through his body. With his back arching and eyes closing, he couldn’t help moaning and gasping, scrambling for a hold as the Emperor kept pressing against that same spot driving him insane, making stars explode behind his closed eyes. “I’m glad he didn’t do well. This reaction of yours is only mine to see, my prince, a reaction no one else should know.”

“Jae- Oh, by the sea-” Jaehyun tried to correct, to remind the blond that he didn’t like this nickname, that he much preferred his name over a title he no longer held, but it seemed befitting of a man so known to be a beast on the raging fields of war, someone who was said to overthrow opponents with ease despite royalty usually staying behind, to know how to subdue another. Wet warmth locked around his cock, he couldn’t help reacting immediately, his fingers tugging at the moist golden strength, either to pull his husband off or keep him close, he didn’t know just yet. He didn’t know a thing about blowjobs either, couldn’t tell whether Youngho did well or horrible, he just knew the sensation was overwhelming, better than jerking off in a bath of warm water, slick and smooth and that tongue rubbing against his tip on every upward move had his eyes rolling back.

It was an overwhelming situation, and all too easily it became too much, with the torturous press of fingers to his sweet spot and that mischievous wet muscle tracing the sensitive skin beneath his cockhead, it had the heat rushing through his body, washing over him like a giant island-swallowing wave. A doomed god of war indeed, cruel and ruthless, Jaehyun felt quite like falling off a cliff and, instead of the alluring dip into salty water, air was pressed out of his lungs at the impact, ribs crashed, muscles contracting, as he was left scrambling for a high he was denied off. Within a few seconds, of him feeling the mind-numbing pleasure threatening to drown out his every thought and reason of being approaching him, it was taken from him as well, as the Emperor had pulled back entirely. 

The ruler had turned into an image of might instead, kneeling upright in between the younger’s legs and staring down with dark eyes, threatening and possessive alike. “Don’t glare at me like that, Jaehyun,” the older almost _purrs_ \- fucking purrs, a detail that oddly agitates the brown haired right then - “I promise I’ll make it up well.” Promise so earnest and sinister alike, pledge of an overwhelming victory but this time success meant their heightened shared pleasure.

It wasn’t even like Jaehyun was offered any room for protest, not with his lips being claimed again whilst he felt the drag of something _else_ between his ass cheeks, hard and warm and nudging against his rim. Earlier, the servant had used some sort of oil on him, had been generous with it to ease the drag of skin against skin, but with all the preparations and time in between, now it felt more dry, made him overly aware of the tip of Youngho’s dick pressing against his hole, slipping inside with little resistance. Regardless, it punched some of the air out of his lungs, the stretch so much more obvious than with those sinful fingers before, and he positively felt like being split apart with every little rocking motion.

Lips parted, his husband took plenty advantage of it, licked into his mouth with greed that contrasted the slow thrusts, pulling out a bit and pushing in some more, taking his sweet time that wore down Jaehyun’s patience so well. It was excruciating waiting and receiving, when he couldn’t do much more than lie there as he was carefully claimed, as he felt his insides slowly getting scrambled, dragging it out until it felt like eternity before their hips were pressed together and he felt so _full_. Nothing he had ever felt before could have prepared him for this, there was no room for comparison, was nothing which was possibly alike, and whilst pleasure was not too new for him, it had never been at this level.

Relationships between people of the same gender weren’t uncommon, weren’t looked down upon, in cases like his own nation they had even decided to take advantage of it by sending children who couldn’t be taken care of by their parents to those who were unable to conceive any of their own. But as a royal, as someone with the responsibility to keep his bloodline thriving, it simply had never crossed his mind to be with anyone but a woman of noble blood. Now, though, now he had to reconsider and if only for this immeasurable satisfaction flooding his body with warmth as he simply clung to his husband more, pulled Youngho closer until their bodies were flush against one another’s, his own hard length salaciously caged between their crafted stomachs. 

“Jaehyun,” Youngho breathed into his mouth, sounding so reverent, as if this were the greatest gift in the world, to have their bodies connected like this, and again, “Jaehyun,” as if there could be no better feeling to ever grace their lives. It made no sense, for someone to have experienced as many highs in life to treat this very moment as the most worthwhile, but it made something dark and unholy grow claws and tear apart the younger’s insides.

Just lying back and taking, it was against all Jaehyun was used to in life, and it took but a mere more seconds of him to grow used to the feeling before he used his strength to roll them over, caging the Emperor’s hips with his thighs and using his body weight to keep the older down. Their position strained his thighs as he was not allowed to sit up, not with strong arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers curling around his arms and tracing up, until his clenched fists were engulfed by their matches and his lips claimed by their pair. It was distracting - the heat and remaining moisture of Youngho’s bath that stuck to his skin now, the slick wetness of a tongue rubbing against his own, and those digits rubbing into his hands to coax his hands to open up until their fingers were entwined above their hands. Like that, he had little support to move and he still did, started to circle his hips slowly, little movements at first that had his whole body trembling, until he was able to do more, to raise his lower body as much as he could when his upper half was trapped the way it was.

Scalding pleasure, it threatened to overtake him with ease, with the way his husband’s cockhead rubbed against his sweet spot with every greater movement, his own rubbing against bare skin, and this naturalistic sense of fullness that overrode any thoughts his mind could possibly conjure. Any other moment he would scorn it, the way his mind was so overtaken by _Youngho Youngho Youngho_ , currently he could not care less, not with how good he felt and with how much better the Emperor made him feel by raising his hips. Whatever move Jaehyun did, it was met by his partner, adding to the momentum and intensity, and the way his heart felt more fuller than his body even was something he would need to ponder another day. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

It was different today, but what it was to make it different he didn’t know. At first glance, it seemed to be just the same - the ever familiar strip of sand, the waves almost quiet where they touched the golden grains in greeting, the seagulls which did not want to mock him today. Nevertheless, something was in the air, something to drive shivers down his spine as he looked around.

The boy wasn’t there yet, and looking for the man had him turn around once, towards the grassen fields that were void of any moving life, and then again, to face the beach once more. The boy was there, had appeared seemingly out of thin air, and as much as this world allowed it, he didn’t doubt it was just that. 

Another change was the expression on the boy’s face, not one he had never seen before, it was the opposite, he had found himself admiring that man’s beautiful smiling face from all angles possible already. But for the first time, the same smile was directed at him. His heart beat faster just being at the receiving end of this beautiful mask, the idea that he might have made the boy happy warming his heart. What’s more, the boy was moving his way, and it was the most of an interaction they had had since their first encounter, when the boy had simply looked his way, before getting carried away by the winds. 

The boy’s hand stretched out, he couldn’t help notice once more how they seemed to be void of too many marks, no bruising showing up, nothing but tender skin and callus on the fingertips. He inhaled deeply, had to prepare himself first, ready his heart, before he replied to the gesture and held out his hand as well, meaning to grab its match. Only he never got there - his fingers hit nothing but empty air, cold to his touch like morning fog, and as soon as he had dared touch the boy’s fading skin, the whole of him was blown away, fog blown by the breeze, clearing the path. 

Before he had realized, he could see nothing but the sea again, no beautiful man to block his sight. He wished he had dissolved in quite the same way. It would have been better than watching the boy disappear right in front of his eyes again. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

The saddle pressed uncomfortable against his sore hips, and it wasn’t just for their first night spent together, it was the one that had followed after as well, when Youngho had seen him curled up in the sheets of the impromptu bed in that obnoxious tent and decided to stake his claim by making Jaehyun come on his fingers, or this recent morning when this sinful wet muscle had played against his rim as his husband had his face buried between the younger’s cheeks. The repetitive reminder of how much pleasure he was offered along with the strain of riding several hours a day was taking a toll on him, and all that was easier to bear than the burden of his heart regardless. It felt shameful, not the sweet highs he received in and of themselves, but the way he felt his whole self crumbling so easily under the demeanor of a man his head insisted to hate. 

The Emperor, regardless of all his giving acts in bed, was still a ruthless man. Regardless of the way he had silently prepared some ointment for Jaehyun’s thighs sore and chafed from riding, he was cruel with everyone else except the few men the former prince of the sea nation had been allowed to take along on this journey to his new life. Two weeks of riding, as he had been told by the unnamed general who had stayed behind to watch over the army packing up, because the mass of people having to walk would slow them down too much to be to his impatient husband’s liking. Instead, their convoy was made up of Youngho and his advisor along with the patch of royal guards, Jaehyun and his men, and the few folk that were taking care of and riding on the loaded wains. 

Two weeks were by far faster than the travel by foot which might take up to a month, but it still felt awfully long for Jaehyun who was not used to this. Most countries he had visited he had traveled to by the ways of the sea, they had boarded ships and sailed along the coastlines to the next harbor to be received into another royal town. Riding, an activity of joy for him on any normal day, was slowly becoming excruciating, and he would feel like that all the more if he had to travel next to his husband all time long. As it was, he was blessed, because Taeyong had insisted to take his old horse along, heart too soft to leave the retired creature alone, and because of the lesser speed they rode further at the back, accompanied by Yuta and a handful of the Empire’s guards.

“I see the Emperor likes to conquer even in private,” said knight dressed in the light color leather armor of the sea nation teased from behind, after Jaehyun had shifted around in his saddle once again, slowly unsettling even his own mare with his constant wiggling around. Banter like this came easily for their bunch who had grown up together, and albeit Yuta wasn’t as close to Jaehyun as Taeyong, they had spent hours on the training fields together anyways. A prince not knowledged in fighting was a useless prince at times of danger, not to mention how it had been fun to make the migrant from one of their islands eat dirt every once in a while.

It didn’t seem to be the same with the midnight blue clad guards whose names Jaehyun wasn’t even familiar with, for he saw one of them move from the corner of his eyes, and before any sword could be drawn he called out roughly, “Hey!” Turning his head, he caught the surprisingly young looking man’s eyes as well as the fingers wrapped around a sword’s handle which had already been pulled a few inches out of its sheath. “Put that away.”

Well trained as they were, their horses hadn’t yet stopped, but with how tense the air was around them time might as well have, as even Taeyong, Yuta, and the other guards got wind of the situation, and before Jaehyun had properly taken note of the situation, all armed men had a hand on their weapon, and a variety of those there was for sure. As the only unarmed one, Taeyong tangibly grew a bit restless next to him, didn’t want to be caught up in a battle of seven against three with the two of them excluded. It was one thing to have Yuta thrown into a fight, a knight who knew how to keep up and defend himself, but it was another matter if his own best friend were involved, and Jaehyun gritted his teeth.

“If you pull your weapon now, guard, I’ll throw myself between the two of you. And harming me will count as treason towards the crown, be it by my law or yours. Are you sure you want to risk that?” Almost he felt empathy with the young soldier - almost, because anyone who has reached the position of defending the Emperor personally at such young age must be skilled, at a terrifyingly high level nonetheless. Someone with such an innocent face shouldn’t be in this kind of situation in first place, it wouldn’t have happened were they back in his lands. But they weren’t, so Jaehyun knew better than to protest matters he did not fully understand.

There was reluctance in the adolescent’s movements as he let go of his sword, the hollow sound of metal hitting metal sufficient to make the others calm down as well. One by one, they let go of their weapons, only it didn’t eradicate any of the defiance in the guard’s face who promptly spoke up, “He insulted you-”

“Whether he insults me or not is my decision,” Jaehyun cut him off sternly, frowning lightly as he looked from one guard to the next - equally as young, equally as terrifying. A quick look around confirmed a hunch that came a few days too late, but he hadn’t been the most attentive since his marriage, had just gone along and submitted to his fate for the duration of their travels. And just because he sensed that Yuta would speak up again, lest he says something first, he added on his own, “He’s allowed to speak like that with me, guard. Your Emperor might treat you differently but Yuta is my friend before he is my subordinate, and any offense towards my friends is an offense directed at me as well. So unless you want to raise your sword at me for saying such a thing, don’t consider raising it towards Yuta.”

Towards the end of his speech, his tone became softer, a notion that mustn’t have gone by unnoticed by the young soldier whose eyes widened minutely in surprise. Those words, such endearment, it must have been unknown to this army that was so widely feared across their continent. In a way it made sense, for soldiers trained in kindness might be more willing to die for their crown but soldiers raised to train for survival knew to fight by the means of an injured animal - a battle of all or nothing, life or death, and the crown was secondary to survival which meant victory as well. Their faith did not resign in their ruler, it was with the people keeping their backs, and by all means, Jaehyun had seen it himself in the synchronized means of their willingness to fight.

At this moment, he wasn’t sure whether to pity these men raised in anguish and educated with an apparent lack of heart, or to disdain the Empire that made them out to be like this. Somewhere within the depth of his heart he knew that these feelings went hand in hand, and it was so foreign to him he couldn’t help feeling anguished by it all the same. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

True to the general’s words, they arrived at the capital within a little more than two weeks, and with their destination painted upon him, suddenly Jaehyun wished their travels had taken longer, maybe never ended in first place. What he was used to - a capital of serenity, with no walls separating the palace from the commoners from royalty, with no outwards sense of protection towards intruding forces, leaving them vulnerable to attack and kindness alike - was a striking contrast to what he was presented with now. Thick walls that rose the height of one and a half man surrounded the Empire’s capital, washed out and dirty grey that showed nothing of the mindful caretaking he was presented with at home. 

Behind, the city looked no better, streets worn down, they betrayed little of the wealth he had been confronted with when he had first entered the Emperor’s tents that faithful day. The people, albeit not looking sickly, didn’t look too receiving of their ruler either, frowns maring their faces as mothers pulled their children behind their skirts and men turned their faces away. Few dared to peek out in curiosity towards the few men dressed in fabrics so unlike their Empire’s respective colors, and at the sight of a girl peeking out behind her mother’s skirts in blatant interest, Jaehyun couldn’t help smiling softly as he waved his hand at her. 

The small girl’s face brightened at first, delighted to be greeted by someone, her hand raising in a similar fashion to his, only it was pushed down by her mother. A little pang resonated in his heart at the gesture, his head turning by instinct to look at her even when they were already past, for the people at home had always taken to him kindly, had talked to him with the same ease as if he were their neighbor, not a person of offense. 

“This is not home, Jaehyun,” his advisor said softly from the side, empathetic, because this sense of alienation must be the same for both of them. Albeit not of royal blood themselves, advisors held a lot of power, opinions weighted, any person of evil intent might try to influence them. “You know the rumors and-”

“They’re not rumors,” the guard they had bickered with some days ago interrupted, much to his comrade’s disdain, if that hiss resembling a name was anything to go by, and yet he continued undeterred, “Our Emperor is a stern ruler. Forgive me the comparison, Your Highness, but you are a weak ruler. If you allow your subordinates to talk so freely with you, that only means you can’t take reign and-”

“You’re stepping out of line, guard.” Taeyong’s usually considerate face was decorated by a frown, the very sign he was upset and holding it back, because his advisor had this awkward habit in public situations, of bubbling upset contained within his slender frame. “Jaehyun!”

“He is,” the royal agreed, gaze pensive as he looked at the younger man, the intricate armor of leather and iron plates replaced with a more formal version, befit of their arrival to the capital, “But I won’t learn if I don’t listen. Isn’t that what you taught me too?”

The frown on the older’s face quickly faded away at the reminder, morphing into a little pout instead, a change Jaehyun didn’t need to see to know about. Instead, he signaled the soldier to keep going, to explain these disastrous thoughts that seemed like a kingdom’s ruin to them only, as foreigners, not to those who had grown up with the same. “A leader should be strong, or they wouldn’t be leaders. If we were animals, the loser would die. So they should be content with being alive if they can’t contribute any more to the prosperity of our kingdom.”

“You think listening to your instincts makes you strong?” The newlywed prodded carefully, honestly wanting to understand, for the feelings of the people were not something he could learn by books, regardless of how much he craved for these. States were built on rules and law but they were maintained by the people, knowledge gained through papers and constitutions, through talks and conversations. “A crown is replaceable, guard. Melt the metal, behead the ruler - you will find it won’t take long to find a new one in place. But the people are not, and a king would no longer be a king if there are no people for him to lead. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating the folk’s love and hate alike.”

The same guard who had spoken up not once but twice by now parted his lips again, only this time no sound came out. Somehow Jaehyun doubted it would be the last of their conversation, but for the time being, for as long as the soldier needed to integrate these words into his view of the world, it meant some quietude at last. His disgruntled comrade did, though, with an adorable wrinkle of the nose - Jaehyun should probably find it questionable that he considered a deadly man as adorable. “You really should learn to shut up around him, Jen. You’re not going to win him over if you don’t even read the books I give you.”

Jaehyun barely so managed to hold back a snort at that comment he was certain he hadn’t been meant to overhear, albeit it was reassuring at the same time, considering that at the beginning of their journey these same soldiers hadn’t dared speak a word around them. Now, though, they were speaking more freely, not necessarily with him but at least with one another, and to achieve the former too he was eager to put an effort. Talking with this challenging boy was interesting, not to mention something to aid him in understanding this new home of his. 

A home he had to get used to in more ways than one, more than the people not trusting their crown, more than soldiers being too young, it was the scenery as well, the palace looking more like a fortress than a royal residence, holding none of the coziness he was so accustomed to. Walls that were easily twice the height of their match they had passed through earlier revealed the inner parts, a vast area that seemed to use width to its advantage more than height, when most buildings seemed to be two-stories high only - the stables, the barracks, the housings for the servants, and whatever else there could possibly be. 

Only the palace itself was greater, not as impressive as the ones leaning against the mountains he had seen drawings of, not as pompous as he might have thought after all he had been shown so far, it was a strategic building, with a height sufficient to let them gaze past the walls but too little to make great aim for attacks, structure sturdy in case of offense but polished enough to emphasize its importance. At least the simplicity of it Jaehyun could not protest against, not when his birthplace had been the same, and yet even their home seemed to be lavishly decorated in comparison to the Empire’s core. 

“Home sweet home,” Yuta cheered in sweet mockery behind them, so typically Yuta and so what they needed right then as Jaehyun had to hold back from laughing and he was more successful at that than Taeyong, who broke out in his choking sort of laughter. “Hey, you think if I tell them Taeyong and I married on the way I’ll get a cool home too?” Said advisor only ended up laughing harder and this time not even Jaehyun could hold back from doing the same, grinning widely as he waved off the stable boy meant to do his work. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

The skies outside were starting to darken, something Jaehyun could easily observe from his spot near the window, most of his body submerged in hot water poured into a tub lavishly decorated with gold, not unlike the rest of the bathroom. It was grating his nerves, this lasting display of wealth the Emperor denied his people, except it seemed to be something he’d have to get used to anyways. Even if the blatant neglect of the people’s opinion bothered him, he had a feeling that, regardless of his succeeding to change this or not, the decorations would remain. 

At least the cityscape at night was always the same, the dark buildings and orange glow of lamps, lanterns and fires, the way it stretched out around the palace grounds, illuminated by the sunlight from above. Some things, even if the exterior differed, would always be the same. 

It was the reflection of the glass allowing him to look outside in which he could observe one half of the doors to the bathroom opening, revealing not one of the servants who had helped him into the warm wet earlier but the very man he had avoided for a few hours now. The Emperor was behaving differently around him in private compared to in public, betraying none of the cold everyone else was faced with. Instead there was warmth within dark eyes, an expression he had grown familiar with after nights spent together in the same tent. 

Youngho’s steps were almost quiet within the room, bare feet soundless against the marbled tiles, until the older arrived at the tub and leaned against it carefully. The younger watched it all through the mirroring windows, didn’t turn despite the tender touch of fingers caressing through his darker strands. “I’ve heard you want to challenge me in favor of a servant, Jaehyun.”

With a sigh the bathing man turned his head to the side, caught the white dot of the pearl dangling from his ear being reflected, his eyes trained on it in the same way his husband’s must have been, he could feel the way it was moved around from the touch of fingers. “I’ve heard you would have beheaded him for not doing his work when that was actually my work,” Jaehyun denied, gaze trailing upwards so he could see whether and how the Emperor’s expression changed at his words. “I’ve heard you don’t give much about your people and if me doing the opposite is understood as me challenging you, then I’m going to continue to do so, Your Highness.”

There was no immediate response, there wasn’t even a delayed one, was only confusing silence even as Jaehyun stepped out of the water when it had turned too cold for comfort, supported by the older’s hands to prevent him from slipping on the tiled floor. The same hands that wrapped a towel around his body, leading to arms holding him close, bare back to clothed chest, and standing just like this, with a different sort of warmth ungulfing his body, he could feel the echo of a heart beating speedily against his back, until this too calmed down, faded out, matched its rhythm to his own. The rushing of his blood resounding within an empty shell held against his ear, drowning out even the sound of the real sea once splayed out at his feet. 

Sometimes it were the small things that made a difference, sometimes it was a small piece of pebble to set off a mountain slide - sometimes it was a single embrace that made him forget he was the only one being treated like this. In retrospect, he couldn’t remember who between the two of them had let go first, only that it had resulted in him going to bed first, cuddled into the warmth of blankets and listening to the sounds of water splashing as Youngho washed up. Sounds that weren’t too unlike what he knew from their summer residence on one of their islands, closer to the beach where the rushing sounds of the sea accompanied him even at night and lulled him to sleep. The surroundings then had felt like home, a place he returned to every summer again to play with his brother, with Taeyong and their nanny, and whilst this new palace was _home_ , it didn’t feel like it, made it harder for sleep to approach him.

It wasn’t something he wanted to admit to his husband even when the same moved into bed behind him, broad frame slipping close and, in familiar fashion, pulled their bodies together. Jaehyun had protested at first, had tried to sleep as far away from the Emperor as their impromptu bed in the tent had allowed him albeit it had been fruitless - come morning, he’d be surrounded by Youngho’s scent, kept close by strong arms and he had tried to tell himself it was instincts, was the intrinsic search for warmth, and not the pull he felt within his chest that urged him to get closer.

“Jaehyun?” The older’s voice, gruff and hoarse after a long time, was a barely there whisper, nothing more than a test and the dark haired didn’t want to fall for it. He remained quiet, silently awaited the fingers habitually playing with his hair, combing through the moist strands and toying around his pearl earring. “Are you awake?”

Indeed, Jaehyun was, and were he a better person he might have replied. Only this night there was a strange feeling in his chest, as if his heart had turned into a flower and whatever his husband wanted to confess would be the water and the sun to make the petals unfold and blossom bloom. Instead of answering, he curled up tighter, behaved the way he would in the morning when he did not want to rise, when sleep was weighing him down and making him sluggish.

As if to give him time to fall into deeper sleep, Youngho remained silent for a bit longer, the gentle caresses never halting, on the contrary, they were accompanied by little kisses along the younger’s neck, until the Emperor felt content with his belief of sleep. “You’re very different from what I thought, Jaehyun,” the blond confessed, a sense of longing hidden within these words, the weight of there being more than the eye could see, shadows behind a curtain that weren’t mere puppets but humans indeed. “When you looked so pretty and docile in my dreams, I thought your heart would be the same, my prince - docile and kind. Because pretty you are, even prettier than in my dreams, my prince… I’m still dreaming of you, my pearl, I wonder what it means that they didn’t stop when I got you in my arms like this.”

It took all of Jaehyun’s self-control not to flinch right then, at the notion of dreams he couldn’t return because the man whose arms kept him warm had been a stranger to him. Only his heart reacted in kind, gave one happy beat as if that would answer all questions unasked, as if it would recognize the truth hidden within. Hidden from Youngho’s sight, it had him frowning a bit, trying to make sense of those words, of this connection that was less tangible than the pearl hanging from their ears, the same pearl his husband was still fiddling with.

“Rest well, my prince, I will see you in my dreams.” Words closed off with a tender kiss that met the most sensitive part of Jaehyun’s nape, where he was most vulnerable, a little spot that was feeling enough to send shivers and warmth to spread across the whole of his body. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

The water was cold around his feet. He couldn’t recall the last time he had last stepped into the waves like this, pant legs soaked, dyed a darker hue, clam around his skin. He didn’t really feel bothered by that. His eyes traced after the little crab walking sideways, inches from his toes, cutting water with its pincers when nothing was around to be torn apart. It reminded him of people thinking so highly of themselves, blown up egos and pride, but nothing inside to back it up. 

Next to his feet, the waves broke again. Another pair of feet as he realized, and as he looked up, the man was standing next to him. Honeyed orbs looking so distant, but the distance between them was less. A step in the right direction, or so it felt. Like an accomplishment he couldn’t put into words, one he’d rather was washed away by the waves. The things he could not explain to himself, actions he could not understand, they meant little to him. 

The boy took a step forward and he realized with a start he did not want this - whatever it was - to be washed away. It had taken so long, him watching the boy grew up as he himself grew into maturity, that letting go was like giving up his life. It made no sense, it was something he had kept for so long. Giving up would feel so wrong. 

Without realizing, already was his hand surging forward, reaching for the boy within his reach. One touch, it took no more than that, and skin turned liquid, water meeting the waves, like a bucket full having been emptied, and the droplets hit him all over. His hand was warm where it was wet. It was no longer cold. It was no longer elusive. Because water, despite its fluid state, was something he could scoop up and hold within his hands.

It was progress, was an accomplishment. He watched it be washed away by the waves. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

The library was unlike every other Jaehyun had ever seen - then again, he hadn’t actually seen that many, he knew the one from home but considering that the library usually held the archives as well, not all kingdoms were eager to open theirs to guests. Official documents, the register of laws, the codex all their ancestors had agreed upon which, ironically so, held a lot of regulations towards the uphold of peace but none that forbade war, as well as family trees and whatnot, it was understandable not a lot of royals wanted foreigners to catch a glimpse of the same. Only Jaehyun no longer was a foreigner within the Empire, more than that, as a new addition to the royal family there wasn’t a single book or codex he wasn’t allowed to read, and that was a detail he was keen to take advantage of. 

He had, actually, for a few days now, had created a little space for him to study, after he had managed to talk his husband’s advisor into getting him a more comfortable reading sofa and gotten his hands on some blankets thanks to a cleaning servant. Now, his area stood out in comparison to the other parts of the library, the cozy area that was no adequate replacement for his little inner yard at home but better than nothing all the same. It was a messy area, with books strewn around, opened up and placed across low tables so he could move from one to another whenever he needed to, taking all the time he could to catch up with the knowledge he had missed out on for being a foreigner.

Contrary to his initial understanding, the Empire was surprisingly well organized, with pretors taking care of their provinces, needing to study law to speak judgement rightfully, being paid enough to no longer be weak towards bribery but Jaehyun could imagine that the payment lists he had seen led to obnoxiousness of the likes that had aggravated him as well. Already now, the claimed countries had been turned into provinces, reports from pretors stating how cleaning up and organizing were going, treasurers and their intricate lists of wealth, of creation of value, the lists of requirements still needed which had been stamped and signed. It was all so well organized but it had his head swimming from all the information he had to take in, little things princes were supposed to learn throughout their childhood and adolescence which he had to cram into his brain all at once.

After hours of staying in the same spot and feeling his muscles and joints lock up, it was eventually a headache that urged him to leave his seat - or such he wanted to do, was held up by the sight of firm legs in front of him the moment he looked up from one of the codices he was working with. Wrapped with dark leather rather than loose linen, he could tell who they belonged to from their shape along, a realization that drove the heat up his neck, tinted his ears in red and lest they could be seen, he shook out his hair to cover them up well. “Your Highness?” He asked, barely able to hold back a yawn as he directed his gaze upwards.

They were alone at the moment, with those studying like him gone, and Jaehyun was certain it was the sole reason he was greeted by a warm hand cupping his cheek, calloused skin pressing into his softer one and stroking the skin underneath his weary eyes carefully. “What are you doing, my prince? You don’t need to study all that and drive yourself into exhaustion like that.” Words that were soothing, reassuring maybe, they contrasted greatly with the lack of emotion on the Emperor’s face. A man made up of contradictions, of gentleness that was directed at Jaehyun only, of great knowledge of countries he meant to fight but denying his husband to do the same with their shared nation, always so cold and silent during the day but warm and full of spilled secrets at night. And secrets there were plenty of.

It shouldn’t come as surprise that the younger, after spending almost all day studying and investing his remaining time in exercising his body as well, was usually first to be in bed, half-asleep by the time Youngho joined him. Warmth that would engulf the worn out prince from behind, little confessions of the dreams his husband had every night again, of meeting Jaehyun this place and that, this unreachable figure he could only touch in reality. But even in reality their time was limited, was the breakfast they had together before they parted for the days, and as much as the dark haired enjoyed to have his peace and quiet while studying, he found his heart feel caged and trapped when he hadn’t seen his husband in too long. 

A cage that had opened, his heart a bird that was set free, soaring to explore the world, and breathing came easier to him the moment he felt that warm touch to his skin, the tingles racing down his spine warmly. “It’s the responsibility of the crown to know-”

“ _You_ don’t need to,” the Emperor cut him off more sternly, adding to the dull pain that felt as Jaehyun’s head was trapped in a vise and slowly screwed tighter, pressure against his temples agonizing. He didn’t need some marital fight now, and he couldn’t resist simply pushing Youngho’s hand away and slip past him to get to the door. Not unexpectedly, the older followed him there and down the hallways too, not caring about attracting attention by asking, “Where are you going?”

“Kitchen.” For Jaehyun it was an easy enough answer, the craving for a cup of tea strong with the exhaustion he was currently feeling, a brew of peppermint and chamomile sounding like some heavenly right then. Despite having moved to the palace only recently, it was easy enough to maneuver, the few places he needed to keep track of he had remembered the path to within a day, but were it not for the exhaustion he had brought upon himself, he was certain he would still struggle with sleeping well when he didn’t feel quite at home yet.

“Why?” Youngho questioned again, tone a tad sour and it instinctively made Jaehyun step down the stairs a tad quicker, despite the subtle waves of pain it caused him, every little reverberation adding to the phantom pressure on his head. “You’re the prince consort, you shouldn’t be in the kitchen at all, my prince.”

Much to the older’s chagrin likely, the younger had already reached the kitchen before their discussion could fully unfurl, not minding the servants as he moved around to get a tea can and some hot water, dried chamomile blossoms and peppermint leaves carelessly thrown into it at once. Focusing on his tea was a welcome distraction to the heavy air around them, and whereas he had already assured the people down here in the basement that he enjoyed making the trip because it helped him clear his mind, that he did it because it had been normal for him at home, it didn’t seem to be the same for his husband.

With a heavy sigh, he put his hands on the counter and turned his head to look at the older, meeting threatening eyes with defiance in his own. “What?” He snapped finally, he didn’t like the tension and, much to Taeyong’s burden, he had never been someone to hold back, had a tendency to approach whatever bothered him without second thought more often than not. At least where politics were concerned, he had managed to control his tendencies but this - this weird relationship, this marriage that was little more than sharing a bed and what turned to be one-sided adoration - was no official matter at all, was no matter he needed to hold back on. “I’m not allowed to study about this country _you_ offered me - am not allowed to make my own tea. What more, Your Highness? What else do you want to forbid me from doing?”

How crazy, they barely spent any time together but already he felt as if he could read Youngho, could see the way the Emperor’s eyes got even more closed off, could recognize the words ready to spill from this mouth he knew as sinful and cruel alike. Before any of them could escape, he waved his hand in denial and shook his head, only to wince right after when it hurt him more. Clutching his temples, he requested, “Actually, don’t tell me… I’m not someone you can order around, Youngho. I’ve been raised into ruling a country of my own so don’t expect me to just sit back and let you do whatever. If you want me to live with you, then let me learn about this new country of mine - isn’t it my home now too? Let me make my own tea for as long as I have working legs, let me do what I want when it doesn’t actually bother anyone but you. If you want to order someone around, you should’ve gotten a dog and not a husband, Your Highness.”

The lack of a response meant to shut him down surprised him, but Jaehyun didn’t yet dare look up, only made a protesting noise when he saw his tea can taken from in front of him to be placed on a tray instead, held by a servant who had already set up everything for a little time. For the sole reason that he was talking to a servant, his voice softened, held none of the agitation he had just shown to his own husband, as he said, “I can do this-”

“You can’t,” Youngho cut him off, tone steady and calm but there was a little tingling within the younger’s chest that gave away it was with more gentle intent than these words first let on, “The way you’re looking right now, you might end up dropping the tray, and that’s my mother’s tea set so I’d like to keep it for a bit longer. Get going now, you’re taking a break.” There was something final about these words, so firm and resolute, under different circumstances, during private nighttime, it might have aroused different feelings from Jaehyun. As it was, it only had him stare at his husband in serious consideration for a moment, before his shoulders slumped in defeat and he parted from the counter to head to the door first.

Warmly, one of the Emperor’s hands found home low on his back not much later, steering him through the palace hallways caringly. They only needed to take one turn to arrive back at the library when a little tug on his arm took him the other way, directed him to the end of the hall were a set of curtained double doors remained. “Open,” Youngho’s voice tickled along his ear warmly, and Jaehyun couldn’t help obeying, pulling down one handle to reveal sight of the little terrace turned to the inner side of the palace. He could make out another two in similar places, yet none of them were as nicely decorated, covered with shelves of potted plants that almost entirely covered up the little structures. Someone had put the effort to create a little nest of furs and cushions in the middle where the servant put the tray of tea on a little table.

It went without saying that Jaehyun could recognize what this place had been modeled after, imitating his studying spot back in his family palace, the cozy little space reserved for him. A frown slowly crept upon his face as he turned his head to his husband who was already settling down, seemingly without a care in the world. “What is this?” He couldn’t help asking, felt his heart flutter within his chest but his mind be caught in a whirlwind because nice gestures… They didn’t fit this cruel Emperor, and they didn’t fit the man he had gotten to know, regardless of how much gentler he was treated by the same.

“Sit,” Youngho demanded without actually answering, yet it was the most of an answer that could be given. His husband wasn’t one to evade questions he felt able to answer, and the little realization that this little space had indeed been created for him made Jaehyun feel uncomfortable and taken care of at once. A man of contradictions indeed…

“I still won’t stop studying your Empire, Youngho,” he spoke carefully as he did indeed settle down, welcoming the cup of tea he was handed, warm between his head and not yet drinkable. “And I’ll continue to get my own tea.”

“We got servants for that.” The Emperor denied and simultaneously it sounded like no more than a narrated line at this point, protest for the sake of protest, a dog that was all bark but no bite. “We need to talk about your training as well.”

Over the edge of his cup, Jaehyun looked at his husband, raising his eyebrows in question and this time he got an actual reply, “You can’t go around and fight with knights, Jaehyun. You’ll only end up making the soldiers think they can take you easy-”

“You like my body,” the younger interrupted this time, had half a mind to look away thanks to the memories of even just this morning, when he had been woken up by countless kisses pressed into his skin, marks of suction and bite adorning his skin, the whispered compliments like brands burnished into his skin, “And I got this body by doing the things I do. Don’t tell me otherwise when you’re the same, Your Highness, when you are training in the same way as them. I really don’t like you telling me what I can or can’t do.”

The silence between them weighed heavy for a moment, regardless, the Emperor moved with an ease that shouldn’t be allowed, leaned back on his hands and stretched out his legs, showing off indeed how much all of this training had shaped his body as well. “You’ve got bruises,” the blond eventually said, despite the obvious displeasure it got from the younger. “At least let me take care of them, Jaehyun. You’re only allowed to wear the marks I put on you, and if I have to make sure of that myself, I’ll do it.”

It wasn’t the best, it was actually one horrible idea, to have his husband inspect his body every night again to look for the bruises of hits he had taken, to feel those fingers trace along his skin, but his body was traitorous for warming up in interest, and so was his mouth for telling, “So long as you won’t forbid me…” Politics were about compromises, getting out of a tacky situation with the best result possible, and if this was the way he could keep doing what he wanted, it would be what Jaehyun would agree upon. Only he had never thought he’d have to lead a marriage built on these same tradeoffs as well… 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

“This,” Jeno started certainly, face schooled into one perfectly neutral expression, “is one shitty idea.” Unfortunately, Jaehyun couldn’t even deny as much, but it didn’t stop him from pulling strips of linen tight over his knuckles, protecting the thin skin there. Based on the noises and the little movements he could perceive from his sight, the younger was doing the same despite his own concerns.

“Just spare my face then,” the royal recommended with a little smile as he tied the knot at the inside of his palms with his teeth and other hand. It was the same sentence he had repeated for days now, had told the same to Yuta for a week now, but it was not his friend who was available for him today, who could spare the time to help him relieve him of his pent up stress and ease the burden of his mind.

“It’s not your face I’m concerned with…” It was funny, to hear something even remotely resembling fear within such fearless soldier’s voice, to hear that low voice faltering. There was no need to explain, Jaehyun could very well answer for himself what the reason for such feeling was, after all, he too had been at the receiving end of his husband’s wrath in the recent days. Only that the anger Youngho released around him was no more than glares directed at the bruises covering his skin, the gentle kisses turning into punishing little bites as if agitating the sore skin with more pain would change the creator of suchmarks. But the Emperor was possessive like this, and at least at the moment the prince could admit that it was justified.

Two months had passed in the blink of the eye, two months of staying within his new home, studying and training, getting familiar with other people and his husband alike. As much as he didn’t want to admit to it, Jaehyun had found comfort in the warm embrace guarding him every night, in the gentle touches waking him after sunrise, and it was his heart to be soaring where his mind was still struggling. Already had he given up on questioning this, had blamed witchcraft on these matters, on his awfully reactive heart, on Youngho repetitively dreaming of him, dreams he was told about only at times the Emperor thought him to be asleep, no longer able to listen to him.

“Can’t we just skip doing this?” Jeno tried once again, a bit more whiny, a bit more fearful, and it was Renjun in the corner to be laughing at the younger soldier. It made Jaehyun smile lightly as he jumped into the muddy ground, rain had soaked the soil, and now the mud was squelching between his toes, sounding horrifying with every step he took. 

“ _You_ challenged him,” the commander of the royal guards pointed out, waving a pocket knife in their direction, splattering some apple juice across the field. Lucky him there was no piece of fruit pierced on it or that would have been flung around as well. “So owe up to it. Can’t you see our prince consort is stressed out, idiot? Help him vent a bit, will you? Or want to be Jaemin’s punching bag instead?”

If it were a question of verbal assault, Jaehyun could see why Renjun of all people had been accepted into such highly ranked position, a striking contrast to the two boys talked about, where one was as obedient as a dog and the other as sweet as caramelized sugar rolled in more sugar. He had startled at first, when he had managed to glimpse past their masks and seen more of their true selves, and at the same time as it seemed to be unreasonable to have them execute such job, it was the seriousness they put into their acts that had him convinced of the same as well. They were more than good at what they did, and their teamwork was out of their world, their fighting nothing he had ever seen before. It was for that reason he had talked to them, of all people, had asked the strongest of the bunch to keep him company on this meaningful day.

Although, well, the more meaningful day was yet to come - his wedding. It was scheduled for the coming day, it had been planned by people for weeks now, and just thinking of it had his skin itching with stress. Before, he had found his ceremony to be vexing, to be watched by so many people, to be marrying a man he didn’t even know, an Emperor who had threatened his own lands. But now his husband no longer was a stranger, and the comfort he felt by being around his partner he wanted to take delight in with a private ceremony. Except it was, apparently, against the Empire’s thoughts, with a guest list longer than he was tall, with the grandest ballroom having been cleared out for the celebrations, with guest houses having been tended for days now, to have them ready for their countless guests who had been arriving since days. 

From the corner of his eyes, he could see one of their likes passing by, and he was glad he had chosen such ruggish clothing, pants worn down from training, his shirt discarded on the fence Renjun was sat on. He looked little like the Emperor’s consort and plenty like a meager soldier, like someone who was used to putting himself out onto the fields, to fight battles and win wars. Silently, he preferred it like this. As someone coming from a small kingdom, he hadn’t ever been at the receiving end of too much attention and whereas usually it did not concern him as much because he was _deserving_ of attention, a thought he had had on his own and one Youngho liked to strengthen every other night again, it made him uncomfortable. They weren’t even here for him, had come for the purpose of guffawing at him, for taking in just who it was their Emperor had chosen to marry instead of everyone else.

“I don’t want to be no one’s punching bag,” was about the last thing that could be heard from Jeno before the first hit was already coming in. It was aimed at Jaehyun’s head, against their prior silent agreement, but it wasn’t one he didn’t know to block by sacrificing his arm instead. Today, their brawl lacked all finesse, was just them having a go at it, exchanging punches, kicks and blows, using their strength to their advantage rather than agility. 

That was, until a piece of apple actually was thrown their way, hit Jeno’s bare shoulder and cleared a stripe amidst muddy skin. It would be artistic if not for the lingering threat of the blade falling right after, surely only remaining safely within Renjun’s hand - despite the threatening gesture - because accidentally hitting Jaehyun and injuring his face would draw the Emperor’s ire upon them for sure. It was verbal violence that followed where physical one was denied, when the commander yelled in annoyance, “What are you? Boys raised in the gutters? Fight like you were trained to, by my grandma’s chicken wings!”

Easier said than done, if the breathless state of the younger was anything to go by, and yet Jaehyun shouldn’t be surprised when he had to arch his back to lean down, escaping another punch by tilting backwards, it had him scrambling to not fall over. “The battlefield isn’t waiting for anyone, enemies aren’t as merciful as sparring partners,” the boy had once explained in regards to why they were fighting with such strain, why they were putting their all into every singular training, as if there was no tomorrow to experience if they didn’t wear themselves down to the point of breaking apart. 

It almost literally hit him now that he was faced with the same, not with Yuta’s lenient ways of training, not faced with the royal guard’s stubbornness in exercises off the training fields, when they lifted weights and stretched their limbs. This wasn’t juvenile competitiveness that was revealed by harmless tasks, this was the real deal he had only ever observed so far, and it was one dangerous deal for sure. The hits were coming in faster, with more accuracy, and instead of finding himself caught up in an equal match, Jaehyun was scrambling to keep up and prevent his body to be hit where it would be seen most likely. 

Not that he knew what his robe for the following day would look like, he knew little more than that the seamstress had already taken his measurements during a brief visit, and what parts of his body he had to pay more attention to because his skin might be revealed. He knew nothing but that, didn’t even know what his husband would be looking like, his only guide the national colors that were displayed everywhere so subtly. Now he was scrambling to keep these same spots void of bruises, a task growing more and more strenuous, and his only relief was the fact that Jeno seemed to be equally out of breath as he was too. 

Without realizing, they had skittered further across the field than he had noticed, and just how close they had gotten to the end of it he realized by the time another apple came flying their way, not aimed at them but the pieces of wood inches behind the prince’s back. The fruit burst apart with a pang, the splittered apart pieces decorating the ground, certainly going to be picked up and collected by mice, rats and birds at nighttime the latest. It was the sound that got Jeno out of his mindset, abandoning his murderous instincts to instead step back and crumble down, hands on his knees, breathing heavily, and maybe he would have stayed that way if not for the pocket knife that was finally thrown their direction, landing smoothly buried between the younger soldier’s feet.

“Don’t just stand there, you idiot. Your muscles will lock up if you don’t cool down properly,” Renjun reprimanded from his safe spot, the position where he could arrogantly watch and comment, where he didn’t need to wear himself down like the two of them. A voice in Jaehyun’s head told him that the commander would put in maybe twice the effort later, when no one else was watching. There was no other way something looking so harmless would have reached this position otherwise. 

“You’re really something,” Jaehyun whispered, voice barely coming out of his mouth from how heavily he was breathing since a while now. His arm felt too heavy as he lifted it to gently pat Jeno’s back as he passed by him, dodging Renjun and his murderous gaze to get to the little well instead, to pour a bucket of water over his head, flushing off some of the sweat that had accumulated on his body, mixing with the mud that had spluttered up to this point. Almost certainly, if the Emperor were to see him right now, he would get an earful in regards to his appearance. Then again, Youngho let an awful lot of things slide if it was him to do them and not someone else then.

His heart was still palpitating within his chest, was strained from the spar and tense from missing his husband, a feeling he couldn’t get used to even after all these weeks he was already feeling it. It was the opposite, it almost felt as if it would only demand for more the closer he got to the Emperor in first place, like an addict hooked onto something, like the viceful men getting high smoking on flower seeds he had been told about by a healer on one of their islands. Addictive, tooth rotting sweet, a vice they couldn’t get rid of anymore. He had a feeling he was no better than them at this point, if the state of his heart was anything to go by. 

Moments had passed, or maybe more than that, and Jeno was joining him, no longer out of breath, the guard looked more calm now, as if they hadn’t left a trail of fighting traces all across the field. Some of them were deep, proof of the force they had used, yet it was only him to be struggling with calming down still. 

Quietly the younger handed him a rug to pat dry his face and shoulders, a little smile playing around his hips. “You’re holding up better than the Emperor makes us think, your highness. But I recommend you go take a bath soon and loosen up your muscles. If you are too tired tomorrow, it will be us to pay the price for it.”

It was a cheap allure, it was basic blackmailing because Jeno was aware Jaehyun wouldn’t be able to bear the thought of them bearing the brute of a punishment he was cause for, because they both knew the guards wouldn’t accept his protection in this regard. It was reasonable all the same, because he felt the soreness of his muscles, and he felt his body shutting down, the fatigue that would turn into sleepiness by the time he would hit bed. Nevertheless the sun being up high, if his prior experience with weddings was anything to go by, an abundance of servants would readily welcome him to already now get prepared for his supposedly big day. Jaehyun didn’t like it, neither did he have a choice.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, not for the bruises but for the distraction he had been offered, for letting him relieve his stress before the real trouble was to start. He repeated the same words when he passed by Renjun who only threw another apple at him, brightly red within his linen bound hands, and he felt the curious gazes on his frame as he, in his half naked and mud sullied appearance, approached the palace with an ease that should not belong to a fighter. Not that it would end up mattering now, when only in some hours time he would be in a position more powerful than all of theirs combined. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

If _something old meet something new, something borrowed, something blue_ was the saying of his own country, then _something silver, something gold; something blue and something bold_ would be the very definition of what Youngho had prepared for him on this special day. He hadn’t seen his robe until he had put it on, and even then, as per the Emperor’s request, his sight had been blocked by a scarf wrapped around his head, letting him feel alone. A part of their tradition, he had been told, “The betrothed of the crown has to remain blinded unto they reach the altar, prince consort. To walk down the aisle without seeing means you’re trusting our Emperor, and him taking the blindfold off you means that he’s letting you experience the world through his eyes. And no, this is not a tradition you can break with.”

Up to this point, with his heart beating fast within his chest, weighed down by the weight of fabric, he hadn’t been allowed to see, could only set one foot before another, step down in the direction he had been moved. “Just walk straight,” Doyoung had said, and Jaehyun hadn’t liked it, still didn’t like it. There was something eerie about not being able to see but to know he was seen, to have to put his faith in a person his mind still told him not to trust, regardless of all that had happened so far, regardless of all the changes. Changes that were restricted to the privacy of their rooms, to times it was just them alone, because the Emperor didn’t like to show it well. It was unlike Jaehyun who claimed to not like affection, who felt embarrassed by too much attentive affection being directed his way, who clung to his best friend after a few glasses of wine anyway, seeking for attention and reassurance alike. 

It was eerie, because he didn’t even need to see where he was supposed to go, it was as if his heart had turned into a compass, needle directing his way, owning no counterpart to point south when north would be where Youngho was. Witchcraft, fate, destiny - call it by whatever term there was, he had no earthly explanation for it, was aware it was inevitable. _A beautiful pearl would always end up strung on a necklace_ , shown off, and the most beautiful ones, worn on paired ears, were dangling from his and Youngho’s alike. But like a beautiful pearl’s path being lain out, he had a feeling he was just the same, a pretty product of the sea, he had always been supposed to be attached to the silver crafted into a chain that was the Emperor. It was merely misfortune, was a hoax to have him end up with someone raised under such contrasting circumstances. 

Breath escaped his lips the moment he stopped, he didn’t need to ask to know he had arrived, could feel it by the quivering of his needle, magnetic field disrupting, spinning wildly in circles, no longer knowing where to point next. It was his heart to be trembling within his chest, restless, anticipating things he was not certain he could give it as well. There was the subtle scent of mint and woods, sharp and biting, earthy and soothing, was a scent he had grown familiar with, that had him slump his shoulders as he settled with the fate that seemed to have been set out for him. It was the only thing he could focus on, his husband’s perfume in his nose, the sensation of a pearl between his fingers, something he could play around with while he let the raspy voice of a woman he didn’t know wash over him. 

Vows he had heard before, phrased a bit differently albeit their essence had been the same when it had been his father to recite them, being just the same when Doyoung had run a trial wedding with them some days ago. For Jaehyun more than Youngho who had already grown up with these traditions, who was familiar with these words spoken, who had learnt to know them backwards at some point. So far, he hadn’t seen his father, neither his mother nor brother, he wasn’t even certain whether they had received a wedding invitation when it hadn’t been his responsibility to choose and select. In reality, he wasn’t even certain whether he would want them around, to have them watch him sell his future away once more after they had experienced it already once, going through all this trouble for the sake of formality alone. If he didn’t know too well himself how high strung royalty could be on their traditions, if he weren’t familiar with the blond’s obnoxious habit of showing off, he might have protested this second ceremony. As it was, he knew better than doing that.

He startled, more than he should if he had actually listened, when he felt the warmth of another body press against his back, a sensation that was like his grandmother’s little concoction for tea, unique and unmistakable, a flavor of its own expressed in temperature. There was no helping the way his breath hitched when fingers traced along the scarf wrapped around his head, nimbly working the knot at the back where heated air collided with his skin. It slowly fell away, was filled with that gentleness Youngho liked to express only around him, when light streamed towards his closed eyelids gradually, getting him eased into seeing again. 

The woman was the first person his eyes were on, now finally able to put a face to the voice he had heard throughout the ceremony, and it was her gentleness that startled him, not befitting the coldness he was used to within these walls, where people scurried to obey because of his title, where his friends from home and the royal guard were the only ones daring to speak up. Even they, too used to this routine, did so only around him, a realization that had hit him with delay, after he had neglected the influence of the Empire on them for weeks. 

She smiled, motherly more than alien, and with the delay of a few seconds only she was back to quoting all she was supposed to, had them cite the pledge of marriage Jaehyun had spent all night long memorizing, too nervous he might forget, might disrupt not Youngho’s image but his own. He had known pressure before, had known to keep up a perfect image for the sake of the crown he was supposed to wear - then he had been home, within the comfort of familiar walls, so close to his family’s reassuring arms, surrounded by his understanding people. Their nation, known for craftsmanship and fragility, was nothing like the Empire, full of strength and iron will. It was a different sort of burden he wanted to uphold for these important times at least.

Shivers ran down his back warmly, hearing his husband’s voice in tandem with his own, their words interlacing, forming a bond that could not be seen by anyone but the fickle thing called fate, wrapped around their bodies, but he could feel it, like a fisherboat’s rope, it was sturdy around his heart, was engulfing it fully, protecting and caging alike, and he wasn’t sure what direction the scale would tip. Sturdiness was a continuous attribute, he didn’t want to be like a measly boat cruising the stormy sea, wanted to remain sturdy even in front of the overwhelming might of the empire. If the scale dared tilt and transform into the cage of a bird trapping him inside, his will to fly freely, to soar the skies of his own volition, would be the last he’d allow to fade away.

The pearl dangling from his bracelet was clutched tightly by his fingers by the time applause filled the ball room, people celebrating their union, whether it be authentic or a hoax. It didn’t matter, not when they needed no more than the woman to finish her last syllables for Youngho to reach out to him, fingers warm as they traced up his throat and touched the pearl dangling from his ear reverently. “You’re mine now, Jaehyun. As I am yours.” Words that should warm anyone’s heart. Jaehyun didn’t know how to feel about them even as he glimpsed at the wrist so close to his face, at the golden bracelet that dignified their marriage as accomplished, closed and to be locked forever, something they would take to their graves to connect them even though the afterlife. It’s match resided around his own wrist, kept them tied together, a symbol of the Empire, as grand and rich as the nation, so much more obvious than the pearls drawn from the ocean that resembled his own, and yet their worth and meaning were just the same. They already resembled what they were supposed to be. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

Almost the entire day had passed when Jaehyun had finally figured what his robe looked like exactly. Before, when he had been dressed, he had shivered, had frowned at the lack of fabric adorning his back, revealing almost the entire length of his spinal cord, and it worked to his disadvantage too much. Youngho’s hand was warm whenever it came to rest low on his back, fingertips slipping beneath the embroidered edge of fabric, and embroidered it was all over. It was, as he realized as he stared at it long enough, the image of the sea beneath the constellations of the night sky, was an abundance of white pearls imitating waves breaching the beach imitated by golden threads stitched into the midnight blue fabric. Tiny fragments of diamond, connected by little stitches of silver to emphasize the figures painted into the firmament above them. 

It had taken him so long to recognize for the interruptions, the scarf folded across his front and splayed out, draped along the revealed cuts of his back to flow behind him with his every step. This lighter fabric too, featherly and moving with the softest breeze, was weighed down by the fragments of crystals, was little pieces of blue and white, was framed by gold. It was expensive and heavy, and he hadn’t ever imagine the design of a uniform cut jacket could be redirected in such dramatic ways. At this point he surely shouldn’t be surprised anymore, should be used to the extraordinary ways of the Empire, but it was not the Empire that had him staring at the decorations thoughtfully, it was the man who had instructed each and every part of it, who had requested the print on the golden buttons keeping it all together, who had drawn the pattern for the dense stitching and embroidery, and it was this detail he hadn’t expected from someone known as a brute, was this thoughtfulness to include all these little details that made up Jaehyun which he hadn’t anticipated.

“You’re looking splendid, Your Majesty,” a warm voice called out to his side, drawing his attention as he tilted his head. The man who had approached him was a stranger to him, but judging by the amount of jewelry adorning whose head, he wasn’t someone of little worth, so the polite smile the freshly crowned put on was the least of a requirement. “Your suit is out of this world.”

“Thank you,” Jaehyun answered with that same smile on his lips albeit he felt it slip around the edges. Coming from a smaller country, he certainly didn’t know as many people as the Emperor, and his husband was the one who should receive the compliments for this design, not him. Clothes make people, and sometimes gowns make royalty, regardless of the blue blood flowing through his veins because he was aware of the neglect he had received just the prior day, when he had run around like a soldier rather than a prince consort. “I must apologize, I fear. I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name yet, my lord.”

Such wouldn’t be a problem if he were with the Emperor, or at least with Doyoung or Taeyong to whisper into his ear, tell him who he should be careful around or who might be as easy-going as he thought himself to be. Now, though, he was left alone, with his spouse gone somewhere else, caught in another conversation, and the advisors talking politics with people somewhere else, wherever they might be. They would be a welcome support now, to help him out when his brain couldn’t jumpstart the answers of his own, when he couldn’t even file the emblem on the man’s crest of his own. 

“Younghoon,” the man replied with a little bow of his head, a belated display of respect but Jaehyun didn’t have it in him to protest when already his head was swimming, his thoughts drowned out with all the faces and names he had perceived, people he had been introduced to or who had merely congratulated them. There had been too many for him to even tell them apart, and for the first time ever since his arrival he was not only craving for the softness of their bed but Youngho’s arms and words lulling him to sleep as well. Even if today might hold different plans as well. “I hold the position of pretor in one of Our Emperor’s provinces. It is my pleasure to get to meet you, Your Highness. We have heard plenty of you where I come from already.”

In theory, it wasn’t something he should be surprised with, rumors had always been quick to go around and spread, worse than any sickness were the delusions of the words, and yet Jaehyun was, blinking for a moment at the man in front of him as he tried to connect these syllables with meaning. “I hope my name is not as fearsome as the Emperor’s then,” he finally said, and he meant it. He hadn’t spent almost all his life breathing the tranquil air of his home to now be hung on a rope of prejudice towards his position for marrying such a man. 

“No, Your Highness, none of the likes.” The pretor smiled, not warm and receiving, it was calculating almost, like a snake waiting to bite the mouse regardless of Jaehyun’s lack of interest in being the mouse. “But you’ve drawn attention. There were a lot of people wondering what made Our Emperor choose you of all people, Your Majesty. Some said it must have been your beauty, others sang about your silvery tongue.” Such ideas sounded amusing enough, and for a short second Jaehyun found himself entertained by the idea indeed. Only until the man spoke up again, that was, lecherous eyes trailing the length of his body. “Or was it something else, perhaps?”

There were a hundred ways to interpret these words, so many possibilities and only one chance. His glass splintered in his hold, the feeling of the fragile substance cracking drawing his attention at the same moment it was taken from his hold, claimed by a bigger hand to be put aside before that same hand wrapped around his wrist instead, easily swallowing the gold marking him as _his_. 

“Have a dance with me, my pearl. Politics can follow another day,” an ever familiar voice breathed into his ear, and faced with his own ruler, not even the assuming man of law dared talk back. Before he knew what was happening, Jaehyun was already on the dance floor, his soles smoothly sliding over the polished floor as one arm came around his body to splay out across his bare back again. It was grounding, and it was brandishing, as if the Emperor was showing everyone just whose Jaehyun was. But knowing his husband the way he did, the younger assumed it was exactly the portrayed agenda behind such obvious move. 

Directed in the tact of his movie, their steps making them turn skillfully, he could observe the entirety of their guests, too many faces to distinguish of his own, but the expression of a certain pretor was hidden from his sight. Instead, there was his husband in front of his eyes, with fire burning within glazed honey brown that promised taking him heights he’d never dare talking about. Jealousy, possessiveness. A need to claim. Just today, Jaehyun’s heart forbade him to protest. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

Jaehyun hadn’t understood at first, the meaning behind Youngho telling him to follow him with a little delay, with his hand burning through the clothes where it rested on the younger’s elbows, his words like a dark promise, lips dry and rough in a gentle peck on his cheek. He hadn’t been able to leave, not with Doyoung’s eyes sternly trained on him and the Emperor’s sister a part of their little group, standing around the table that held the pathetic remains of their wedding cake. It shouldn’t surprise him, with as many people as were attendant, there was no way much would be left over, but standing in front of it still had him mourn its pretty looks. 

“He really adores you,” Hyerin confessed, it was like she had lost all hesitation once her brother had left them, the last gate to hold her words manifested in her own blood. The only two left of their family, the reason she had led the wedding, just the way Youngho had done for her before, only her husband was not around, had been needed to stay behind, in a kingdom Jaehyun hadn’t even heard of. “I didn’t think he’d meet that boy of his dreams. Actually, I thought he was crazy when he was crushing on a boy he didn’t even know. Stupid kid.” Her words were harsh but her tone was tender, the teasing lilt of the sibling who had no thing to fear, a sound he was used to from Sungchan as well, and the memory of his baby brother sent a pained pang echo through his heart. 

Surprise had his eyes widen as he looked at her, and despite the reserved expression on Doyoung’s face, that constantly frowning visual, he could sense the confusion radiating from the older. So the advisor hadn’t ever heard of that story, it seemed… “It was the dimples,” she explained with a smile, tapped her own cheek for emphasis, “He always tried to imitate them in front of the mirror when he had been small. It was really nice to get to know you, your majesty, but I think it is time for you to go.” Their conversation had ended there, with Jaemin’s presence by his side and the short way across the gardens to get back to the palace they resided at. 

That detail, too, had been one he hadn’t understood at first - why they couldn’t use one of the ballrooms in the lower floors, which revealed its purpose only now as he walked along the empty hallways, everyone sans the guards gone, and the sight of Renjun and another royal guard in front of the door shouldn’t make him flush the way he did. He knew what would follow next, he knew Youngho enough to have been able to read the darkness within deep eyes, and the idea of someone familiar to them overhearing them made him feel awkward at once. 

Subtly he nodded his head at the man who had thrown apples his way a day ago, couldn’t avoid the amused snort he received in return, and it was all the signal he needed to slip through the doors, leave them all behind and hopefully get their presence off his mind as well. It worked, like a little spell of luck, albeit it had more to do with the surprise he felt as he was faced with the appearance of their quarters, and suddenly it made sense, just why Youngho had gone ahead first. The curtains pulled, their room should be doused in darkness - instead, there were candles all over, placed in carved glasses which broke the light, placed on iron trays, mindfully kept away from fabric and furniture because the Emperor was a meticulous man like this, was someone to plan things down to the detail, careful and considerate, if only his most common affection had been directed at the victories of war. 

Positively, faced with the view in front of him, the breath was knocked out of him, his lungs convulsing on themselves as he forgot to breathe. It didn’t help that fingers curled around his cheeks warmly, cradled his face, guided him closer until he could feel warm and humid air collide with his own lips, nothing but a split second of hesitation, nothing but his husband’s gaze taking in all his features, nothing but a last moment for him to back out. He didn’t, he only closed his eyes as he received the kiss, allowed Youngho to steal the air from his lips, to clear his mind of all thoughts that wasn’t them within their most private space, had their bodies press closer with the way the doors rattled as Jaehyun was shoved against them. Wood hard against his back, he couldn’t help sighing softly, his fingers tangled in blonde tresses in a need to be even closer.

What his heart yearned for, what his head refused to accept, his body had long since accepted - this need for more, desire to be touched by this man alone, and his responses came with an ease befitting these traits. His body gave in, arched against Youngho’s as he just took and received and accepted. Took the attention he was given, received all the tender touches, accepted a tongue sliding past his lips to lick the taste of wine out of his mouth until he could taste of the Emperor alone. Like this, worked and taken apart in all the best ways, he didn’t need long, could already feel the first moan be silenced in their kiss, a sign for his wanting more, and just the sign the older had needed to pull away.

It was aggravating, and were he in his right mind, Jaehyun would have been more upset, but he was dazed and greedy, stumbled after his husband as he was pulled over to their shared dressing table, could only stand and watch as one by one, bit by bit, he was rid of all his jewelry. The heavy necklace on his clavicles was gone first, the one which had closed below the collar of his jacket, lessened the strain put on his nape at once. His many bracelets, dangling pearls and sturdy bands, were gone next, pulled off one by one, until none but his wedding band was left, thick and solid around his wrist. Rings. Scarf. Crown. They landed on the table or the chair piece by piece, joined the ones the Emperor had already scattered all over in his own haste to undress, left in nothing but navy silk pants and a black shirt thin enough there was little left to the imagination. 

With such a sight in front of him, there was no way he wouldn’t be out of breath, glimpses of tan skin he could catch by fabric falling apart, shining golden from the hundred candles surrounding them. “Did you light them?” Jaehyun whispered, his voice scratched down, torn to pieces, and they hadn’t even started. He needed no more than be turned around, feel his husband’s chiseled chest against his bare back, the hint of nothing that was such luminous shirt barely doing anything to keep their bodies apart whilst nimble fingers worked the buttons on his front. Were it lighter fabric, already it would have given way but it were the many applications holding it in place, the material stiff from threaded gold and silver, from pearls and diamonds, but it was the tenderness that lulled him in, had his head falling back onto the other’s shoulder as his eyes fell close.

“With help,” the older admitted and that, that was another trait that confused Jaehyun so much. Youngho didn’t lie, he sometimes had worrisome thoughts such as the suggestion of another war a few days ago, sometimes was disillusioned if he thought the people would silently accept the disneglect, sometimes a jerk in the way he wanted to restrict Jaehyun’s freedom under the weak pretense that pretty things better be kept locked away, but he never said nothing but his own truth. It was charming now, when he tried to imagine this man everyone feared like a monster on the battlefield to be lighting candles for him, one by one, until their room was showered in untouchable gold. It explained the look he had received from Renjun outside the door, that blatant amusement, the knowledge of knowing how overwhelmed the prince consort would feel after passing through. A ploy, a little trick to make him weak in the knees, and it had worked. 

There was no balance to the things they learned about one another, the way Jaehyun had to get to know his husband as a person rather than a being of stories first, and the way Youngho learnt to take him apart bit by bit. It would seem like courting, as if the ever so cruel Emperor was putting an effort into winning over his heart, an idea that seemed ludicrous, after all, he no longer had any means to get away. The boy of the Emperor’s dreams, he was already trapped in reality, was held by these arms, touched by these hands, in the many ways the older had always wanted to in his dreams but denied of time and time again. 

Fingers that slipped underneath fabric and touched him, splayed out across his chest only to cup his pectoral, squeeze at the flesh lightly before fingers came to pinch his nipple, calling forth heavy breaths, and conjuring the heat within his body to accumulate low in his groins. “Youngho-” Jaehyun gasped when the teasing touches didn’t stop and the older rolled the sensitive skin between his fingers. There was something mind-numbing about it, yet, as soon as the touch had come, it was gone, replaced by the need to peel him out of his jacket, revealing all his skin, the cut of his gown having forbidden him to wear anything underneath. 

At least now he didn’t have to wait, felt the movement behind him, fabric brushing up his back, the last bit to keep their upper bodies separated gone. Hands on his hips that toyed with the buttons and strings, not yet gone because his boots had to leave first, but it were these same hands and their careful ministrations that left Jaehyun bare within moments, steered him towards the bed to settle down. And this - this was natural, was something he was already used to as he moved up the sheets, until his back was settled amidst the pillows, his legs spread to allow Youngho in between, silent promise, quiet allure. 

He had been taught the other way, had been guided by the Emperor’s breathless command, his fingers nestled deep within slick warmth until gold was painted white, waves kissing the beaches, their hips meeting, resounding squelches of too much oil. Because Jaehyun liked it messier, liked to see the Empire’s crowned all dirty and chaotic, liked to take down who no one had managed so far, until satisfaction was rooted deep within his chest and his cock had no drop to spill anymore. 

This night, there was a different meaning to it. He had given himself away, had accepted a crown that wasn’t his and had walked down the aisle without being able to see. Countless little proofs, he had sold his body off, and it was this body he was offering up again, the same way he had done countless times before and yet only once, because there were only so many weddings they could have. Their wedding… Just as he had expected, it had been a political one, had played out the way he had always assumed. So why was his heart feeling so heavy? Was making him shiver in anticipation, had him so willing to receive and take? No longer did it feel like a sacrifice, like a decision he mourned having made, whether it be the pleasure or something more, something else he did not want to think about, he knew it was something he would like. Because, regardless of it all, Youngho had never allowed him to feel bad within their bed.

The unexpected touch of palms around the back of his feet, fingers curling around his heels, had him twitch in surprise, breath leaving Jaehyun’s lips more heavily as he just looked forward, met those dark eyes flickering gold thanks to the candles alight. Seeing the Emperor like this always was uncomfortably fascinating, it was like watching a predator preying in when at the same time he knew this beast was tamed, would follow his command at a time like this. They were at odds, the confidence he had in his Emperor and the safety he felt around his husband, the way he almost avoided the older during the day and welcomed his embrace every night, how he didn’t like to have fights about politics with a ruler and wanted to listen to these stories of the Jaehyun in Youngho’s dreams.

Sometimes they made him jealous, and it was a miserable thought, because the real him was envious of an idea of him, and he couldn’t blame his husband for this, not when he knew he was equally at fault. Youngho made him feel this way, torn between his heart wanting more and his head refusing, made him almost afraid of no longer being able to refer to this man as a cruel beast, one last thought he desperately clung to by remembering how a pretor had been called to be executed just days before their marriage, the province left without an Emperor’s right hand, and Ten, that feisty general, had taken their spot instead. All of that, because they hadn’t been able to pay the amount of taxes they had promised, and promises unfulfilled were of little importance to a ruler who did not care about the people’s lives. A one-time mistake, and they were gone. The whiplash Jaehyun had needed, and a memory wiped from his mind when fingers gently squeezing called for his attention.

“Your mind is elsewhere, Jaehyun,” Youngho noted, voice like gravel, scratchy and rough, leaving little red indents and welts all over the younger’s nerves. “Why are you thinking of something else when you’re all I could think about all day long?”

The brunet gasped as teeth dragged along his kneecap, bit the tender skin there, bruised and scarred from all the times he had slid across the ground. “Was thinking about you,” he answered, and it was no lie for he had thought of the Emperor, only the connotations he didn’t mention, didn’t dare point out that it frightened him, the ways someone could be so careless and caring alike, so neglecting towards his people and so attentive towards him alone. It was against all he had learnt growing up, at the same time it had him feel unbeatable, atop of their world. 

It had his back arching in pleasure when teeth traced along his inner thighs, interrupted by little kisses, warm and wet, teasing the softer flesh there, leading down to where he felt like he needed it most. Youngho, despite being not the most verbally expressive, had an awfully talented mouth, tongue golden only where it came in contact with his skin, and there was something magical about the contrast between plush and slick lips and sharp teeth, digging into his flesh, making his thighs jerk. They had barely settled amidst the sheets and already did he need to be held down by his husband, fingers curled tight around his knees to keep his legs parted lest he suffocated the older. “A pleasant death,” Youngho had called it once, after the tension of the younger’s legs around his neck had almost turned into a chokehold before, “Smothered by the prettiest legs I’ve ever seen…” Jaehyun had ignored the tinge of jealousy at the reminder that he hadn’t been the first for his husband as well.

Taeyong had called him stupid, a confession at the dead of a drunk night, words he regretted having spoken the following day, when his best friend teased him about them. For feeling jealous about a man he refused to love - the usage of such strong term already should serve as a warning for him. Only begrudgingly had he accepted the argument that only thanks to his husband’s experience he was able to spend his nights as nicely, at the height of pleasure, an outcome so much better than turning sex into a duty neither of them liked to fulfill. Not that they’d need to, there was no purpose, no heir to be groomed, only their mutual craving for the satisfaction they could find in each other alone.

The thought of this skilled mouth had him remain patient, feeling these same ministrations on his other leg, until the inside of his legs which would usually be left untouched, hits and kicks of exercising hitting the outside alone, looked no better than the outer length. Countless small bites and marks mimicking big bruises, had him shiver whenever kisses were pressed into the already discolored spots. His hands found home curled into golden strands as he tried to pull Youngho closer to where he needed it most, towards his members already hard and heated, showing off all the pleasure he felt. At such time only it was easy to give in to the older, not refusing the hold on his limbs, not pushing him away, rejecting any affection - he didn’t pull his hands away when Youngho wanted to hold onto them while making sweet love to him, he didn’t turn his head aside at the prospect of a kiss in public, didn’t tense with any touch. The opposite, he fell apart further, craved for more, and he couldn’t help the petulant groan departing from his lips when his husband forewent his leaking cock to sit up on his knees instead. 

Those same hands which had spread his legs apart seconds ago took hold of his wrists instead, twisted his arms clockwise and then counter, eyes careful as they inspected his skin. Youngho’s warm gaze was replaced by his lips too soon, open mouthed kisses traced along the swollen bruises that looked so much worse this day than all those before, a thought that must have crossed the older’s mind as well. “Didn’t I tell you to be careful, my pearl?” The question seemed harmless enough, could be understood as caring, but Jaehyun also knew better than that.

His lover was greedy, would cover all these bruises with his own marks if only he didn’t think it too painful, made up for all these traces of others by leaving all the more of his own, would exhaust Jaehyun to the point getting up the next morning was almost impossible, the mere idea of training ridiculous. It was almost animalistic, raw and unhidden, and sometimes offense was the same defense. Most certainly it was the best way to keep his Emperor in check, a teasing smile on the younger’s lips as he brought up one of his legs, curling it around Youngho’s waist to push him down, have their bodies meet in a field of heat. “If it bothers you so much, you should do something about it,” he goads, and he’s not disappointed when he feels the other’s hips press into his, their erections meeting in one wet slide. 

Low rumbles, almost like a growl, or as much as a human can growl, resounded from the Emperor’s lips, vibrated against Jaehyun’s chest as well. “I would lock you up if I could, Jaehyun.” _If I could_. Those words were sweeter than any confession of love, the admission that Youngho was aware of his refusal to be kept on a lunge, to be shown off like a piece of art, albeit it had taken a lot of baring his teeth before. Head butting, opinions clashing, it wasn’t always going as smoothly as now, but when it did, when he saw Youngho ceding to make him content, that’s when he felt like maybe this wasn’t all that bad, when he felt the violent urge tied around his heart like a rope lessening a bit, no longer pulling as roughly to get him closer to his husband like this invisible bond demanded. 

“Even if you did,” the younger denies, because he can’t help himself, wants to be the center of the Emperor’s world these nights, “I could carry these marks, Youngho. Your guards are a challenge I lik-” He grunts, teeth digging into his shoulder painful, and still his hips cant upwards, whole body shivering at the friction between their erections that has him feel delirious. It had been painful at first, the amount of teasing his husband had him go through, the long time he just had to endure, feed that greedy man with his pleasure, moments that felt like hours, and it still was, was teetering at his nerves, made him impatient, wanting to have it all without waiting. Patience had never been his virtue, had been something he had been criticized before, his competitiveness getting the better of him, and their lust spiked times were no exception to it. He didn’t want to give in until he hadn’t had it all, endured and received, accepted what he was given, and if only because he knew there was no possible moment to make him feel any better. 

“It’s bad manners,” Youngho exhaled heavily, words no more than articulated air, heavy and strained thanks to the slow grind of their hips, the messy slide of their cocks against one another, eased by their amount of precum staining Jaehyun’s stomach, “to talk of another man when you’re with your husband.” And as if those words had brought back memories, the Emperor’s eyes darkened, full of delicious intent as he went back to work. Lips sliding down, along the younger’s arm, to paint it with kisses and little bites, sparing the brunet of any marks when most of this limb was already painted with red streaks. 

Jeno had been a vicious little devil while fighting, had Jaehyun feel sore by the time he got woken up, and he had secretly rejoiced they had spent the night apart, sparing him of his husband’s scrutinizing gaze. Not too different from now, as the older pushed himself up on his arms, separating their bodies to stare down at the younger who could do little more than feel his ears heat up, rosy flush spreading down his neck. It had him feeling exposed, there was no way not to when heated eyes raked down his body, zeroed in on his chest, and further down to his ruddy dick. 

“Everyone’s been staring at you today, my pearl. Been devouring you with their eyes.” A mind-numbing confession, and it got no better when the younger felt lips close around his nipple, making him flinch and squirm, fingers returning to strandy gold. He wasn’t certain he wanted to pull Youngho closer or push him away. “I almost regretted putting you in that gown,” the blond muttered, teeth tugging at the sensitive nub, licking and sucking and biting, until it was swollen and Jaehyun felt bittersweet swollen in that particular spot. “Almost. You wouldn’t deserve to wear any lesser clothes. Drove me crazy seeing you look so beautiful. To know I’m the only one who’s getting to see you like this.”

It was a lie. Others had seen him like this, and it drove the heat up Jaehyun’s cheeks and down to his cock, recalling that one time he had been skillfully taken apart only to have Doyoung interrupt, their bodies underneath the covers but Youngho hadn’t stopped, had listened to the younger’s suppressed moans and the advisor’s report without stopping the slow grind of his hips that had sent Jaehyun over the edge. The Emperor was a show-off, regardless of his words, wanted to hide him and expose him, show the whole world what he alone could have. 

“You’re mine, my pearl,” the ruler emphasized again, nothing but a short interlude, and it was the most of a warning Jaehyun got before he felt his leg be lifted, hiked over the older’s shoulder at the same time as wet lips closed around his cockhead and swallowed him down at once. A chortled scream escaped his lips, hips canting upwards but it was useless, his other leg was kept to the sheets by the force of an arm and his husband’s body weight, and it shouldn’t even surprise him, the lack of gag reflex the older possessed never did him any good. Lunacy would all he garnered from it, feeling at the brink of an orgasm from that slick heat alone, the pressure of Youngho swallowing, throat contracting around his cockhead, was insane. 

There was too much going on at once, with the other’s mouth keeping his length trapped, moving up and down at a torturously slow speed, whilst oil had been procured from seemingly nowhere. If he were able to think logically, he’d know it must have been hidden somewhere amidst their pillows or sheets, but Jaehyun was far too gone to even consider that, overwhelmed by the pressure of a slick finger against his rim, drawing little circles before it pushed in at once. There was no burn, only surprise and white hot pleasure, goal achieved, bullseye hit, as the digit pressed into his sweet spot first try. It must seem like nothing but he was too riled up, caught up in the turmoil of his body and heart, brought to the edge too quick and too hard and pushed right over it.

His seed spilled down the Emperor’s throat, swallowed with fluid ease, and his body overheating because he wasn’t let go of, because his cock was burning where it was still engulfed by his husband’s mouth and sucked on so cruelly, because one finger had turned into two, pressing into his sweet spot and spreading him apart in turns. There was no need to spend so much time on it, Youngho too addicted to his body to call for much resistance, but Jaehyun _knew_ it was not about that, was not about making this as painless as possible for him. It was the opposite, was so much worse, because he wouldn’t be set free until his body was sore and his dick too tender to spill the proof of his pleasure, until his vision went black and his body went limb.

At least the older showed mercy, pulled off his member when the first pained whimper left his lips, a sound so rare, he didn’t want to give in on the field, hated to admit to hurt, but this was so different and worse. His taste lingered on Youngho’s lips when he tasted them, his own falling open for their meeting of tongues, and it was sickeningly pleasing, like a mark only he could leave on his lover. Their kiss was messy, nothing but a dance of teeth and tongue, ruthless and greedy as they took their time, as Jaehyun’s legs fell further and more apart, trembling as he scrambled for support on their bed, and two fingers became three.

“Turn over,” the Emperor demanded, and the younger had half a mind to refuse - his legs too weak to hold him up, his body exhausted, jittery from restrained pleasure, but he was nothing if not too stubborn for his own good. Competitive down to his bones, and he lightly pushed at the honey glazed chest, glistening from sweat, glowing golden underneath the candle light, making him want to lick and taste but he’d have time for that later - for the rest of his life. For now, he had to struggle way more with getting on his fours, upper body supported on his lower arms, thighs straining from his own weight, muscles shuddering and he was too aware of how visible it was.

A pained grunt escaped left Jaehyun’s lips when his knees were nudged further apart, balance way harder to keep, all the more when those fingers returned to press against his rim, three sliding in with ease, setting one cruel pace. Every push in, they rubbed his sweet spot, every pull out, they were spread apart, and whenever they left, when Youngho was the worst tease, he could feel himself gaping, yearning for more, only to suck these same digits in the moment they pushed past his rim. It had his head spinning, it wasn’t fair how well his husband could play him, his body a violin and all strings trembling, bow caressing his body to pull the prettiest sounds from him. They weren’t pretty to him, all breathless gasps and choked moans, the wet squelching of oil pushed inside him, but they must be to the violinist toying with him, striking harder, moving faster.

His dick, without having had time to recover, was hard and leaking, hanging between his thighs, drooling into their sheets. It hurt, tender skin that had him jerking at as much as a wisp of cold air hitting his heated flesh, an awful shade of red from where he could blurrily make out its shape, head dropped between his shoulders, hints of gold belonging to Youngho’s sinful legs contrasting the discolored pink of his own. “Fucking-” He gasps a second before he breaks down, arms giving in as his chest hits the sheets, and it’s a welcome position, allows him to grab one of the pillows to bury half his face in. The fabric soaked up the wet of his tears, didn’t cover his mouth, he didn’t dare do as much, not when he had received the honor of being unable to sit for a whole day the last time he had. Youngho got off that, the noises he made, the pleasure contained in his voice - maybe to the fact that for once Jaehyun couldn’t talk back, didn’t challenge him, came undone under his ministrations instead. 

Like stitches taken apart, thread pulled from fabric, dressing falling to pieces, Jaehyun came undone as well, with aching fire burning him inside out, his drooling member painful where he felt his next orgasm accumulate. “Youngh-” He groaned, back arching and hips rolling, the way he could feel the little dips of his husband’s fingers so much clearer telling him how tight he must have gotten too, sweet clenching he knew was too alluring, had driven him insane often enough as he buried his length deep inside his husband’s burning heat. 

It was torture, cruel monster on the fields, for as soon as his high had approached him it was taken from him as well, by fingers pulling out and an arm around his waist keeping him from falling down, no friction on his cock, no stimulation for his insides, it was impossible to get over the edge for him. Not unlike a petulant child he kicked his leg, was content when he felt his foot collide with Youngho’s calf, the little grunt that escaped the older’s lips. Within the same move, he moved his knee outwards, hooked his foot into the other’s knee arch to pull him forward at the same time as he put his weight onto his pelvis. If he were to speak properly, he would have told the Emperor to better have seen this coming - alas, his tongue was numb and his body almost powerless, he didn’t have the strength to sit up to properly settle into his husband’s lap, could only remain breathing in the scent of scented fabric while his hips were firmly settled on hard thighs, slick cock brushing against his ass.

A shiver went up his spine at the realization, that all this wetness adorning Youngho’s cock was not the slipperiness of oil but precum instead, that just watching Jaehyun had been enough to push his husband to this state of arousal. “Heavens… My pearl,” the Emperor whispered, fingers reverent where they traced up and down the line drawn down the younger’s front, between his pecs and parting his abdominal muscles, back up again, smearing around white droplets he had spilled. “Thought I’d go mad today when I didn’t see my marks on you…”

The dark haired didn’t understand immediately, not until he felt teeth digging into the skin on his back, tugging at that spot between his shoulder blades, a constant reminder, it would be impossible not to feel the bruising whenever he moved his arms. Mixture of pleasure and pain had his back arching more as he just succumbed, accepted to get bitten until his back felt sore, shivered with every lick across the tender skin, breath hitching at every tender kiss tracing up his spine. He was aware it was meant to distract the both of them, to bring him down from his cut off climax and deter his husband from fucking him right then. 

Marks that slowly trailed up his back, drawing an uneven pattern along his spinal cord, until that swollen pair of lips encountered his nape, bites turning into nibbles, fading into kisses that moved up to his ear to whisper candid promises, “You can come with me inside you, pearl. You’ll just have to sit on me and take what you want.”

 _Bastard_ , laid on the tip of his tongue, an insult he couldn’t bring himself to hurl at his husband who pulled him up, and Jaehyun knew it wasn’t because he was distracted by the way he was guided to raise his hips a bit, knew it was because he simply wasn’t able to be as mean towards this man anymore. He didn’t want to anymore either, not when he was welcomed by the slow stretch of Youngho’s cock entering him, albeit it was his impatience that had him barely hold on until he felt the cockhead nestled between his walls before he dropped his weight, welcomed the full length at once despite the almost-scream it tore from his lungs. There just was _so much_ , making him feel complete in ways no logic ways could explain, and yet he didn’t consider it wrong when it felt so right. 

At the same time, it was too much for his strained body, collapsing into Youngho’s chest, hands soothing where they trailed down his sides and kept him in place, unmoving, suffering from the trembles that wracked him head to toe. His head fell back, offering his neck, and it was a sacrifice readily taken, his neck claimed by swollen lips and eager teeth. There would still be countless bruises adorning his front and back, at least those around such vulnerable place were left kindly, slow pressure and frequent returns rather than the fast and cruel stakes of claim placed on his skin. They were relaxing, as relaxed as he could possibly be, being riled up as he was, his neediness and his strained state fighting for dominance within him until he couldn’t hold it anymore, not with teasing fingers twisting around his nipples playfully.

Jaehyun moaned, bucked his hips, and his body reacted by instinct as he placed his hand on the older’s chest to push him backwards, a place for him to seek support as he dug his heels into the sheets so he could slowly roll his pelvis. His movements were slow at first, prolonged grinding so he could get a feeling for the angles his body craved so much, testing waters until his sweet spot was caressed, heat colliding with heat, oil poured into the flames devouring his body. One hand wasn’t enough, he realized soon enough, as he scrambled to get the other down on the sheets next to where the mattress was already dipping from body weight, and like this it was easier, body moving smoother, harder, pace picking up.

Riled up and desperate, it wasn’t long before he was moving his body with more intent, stomach tightening every time he had to pull himself up, fingers and feet slipping but he was too desirous to care, too distracted by the sweet burn that spread through his body like fever making him delirious. He wasn’t in his right mind, couldn’t possibly be, could only drown in pleasure and the pleasure gifted to him as he took advantage of his husband like this. Give and take, deliver and receive, and he had received enough to want to take, wanted to have it all - his own high, proof of his husband’s relief inside him, wanted to feel all these things nobody else could ever reward him with. 

A lost battle, it always was with Youngho, and in ways that weren’t exactly such he hated it. It would’ve been worse if that actually were a _battle_ , when lives were at stake and crowns to be broken, history ruined and lands wrecked. It wasn’t when it was just his _pride_ he had to swallow down, this natural understanding that as a prince he had been able to do whatever he wanted, and it was so much easier with Youngho - Youngho who gave him whatever he wanted, who didn’t lock him in, who respected his wishes, who begrudgingly accepted his desires, who just- 

A moan slipped his lips, his hips had canted to find just the right angle without knowing, and he was intent to keep it as he felt warmth flood his body, felt the minute shift reverberate up his arm, was quite certain that his husband’s eyes were trained where they were connected, where his hole was stretching around and giving way to Youngho’s cock, accepting it so easily he should feel ashamed. Sex wasn’t compulsory for them but it was something he craved - loved - and he didn’t protest when a strong hand was placed between his shoulderblades to push him up - “Forward. I want to see you take me, Jaehyun,” the Emperor’s voice sounded hoarsely.

There was something about that, about knowing he could drive the older insane by simply watching, that his presence alone - the idea of his persona, muted by dreams - was enough to have his spouse go senseless for him, that tugged at that string around his heart, pulled the ropes tighter and connected them with his dick down below. Power to might as he arched his back and pushed forward, until he had his hands between Youngho’s thighs and his back arched beautifully, in that way he knew was most beliked, and it felt _good_. Pleasure that wasn’t just physical, delight that came from the mind, to know he could return all the favors, all the need and greed and desirable little things. 

Hands wrapped around his calves warmly, where they were bracketing golden hips again, knees spread outwards to facilitate his movements, but it were those same fingers wrapping tight around his hips and pulling him _down,_ hard and fast and down, that made him break - break rhythm, break down, arms trembling and elbows faltering and he was too _stubborn_ to give in, even when his thighs were burning and not only from pain, bruising like a dump ache from the outside, straining fire, like burning little threads tied into the rope making up his muscles, from the inside, and he couldn’t stop. Was too lost, mind convoluted, body claimed, and with hands curled around his pelvis, fingertips pressing into the v of his hips to leave little spotty bruises, helping him keep rhythm, he couldn’t think of anything else. Hands that were no better than a claiming mark, felt animalistic, like a wolf biting another one’s nape to keep it in check, and Jaehyun wasn’t sure he was forced into submission or participating in Youngho’s last sane moment all the same.

“Jaehyun, you- My pearl-” The older repeatedly started, broken moans and breathless gasps interlaced, and it shouldn’t be as arousing, not when the Emperor was usually so eloquent, knew his way around words, knew to put people in place. It was lost, faded in transmission, a transport of golden treasure called speech robbed by a cruel bandit called lust. 

They were the same, were lost to pleasure, and Jaehyun could no longer resist breaking down. His arms collapsed and it was the last he could do to try to fall to his side, except it worked in his favor, as if his movement had been predictable, and maybe to Youngho it had, because those same hands took a hold of him, the shift of balance to the side used to their advantage, and the younger found himself kissing the sheets no second later. Growing louder in staccato intervals were his moans, choked of sounds, following his husband’s every harsh thrust, and it was _too much_. With his dick grinding the sheets, his chest so sensitive where he was pressed into their bedding, and his hips so delicious abused, he didn’t have it in him to hold back.

“Youngh-” He cried, just as he felt the sporadic wetness spread underneath his abs, soaking the fabric, clinging to his skin, and it didn’t stop. Like the waves hitting shore, his high was prolonged with each of those cruel thrusts, skimming his sweet spot, making him convulse on the sheets, body tensing, squirming, releasing, and his eyes were as wet as his drooling cock by the time he felt liquid warmth cover his insides as much as his outsides. Slow grinds, that was all he received in the end, as their shared pleasure ebbed away, but he couldn’t process it with how much his body was trembling, on the verge of crying for nothing besides the sweetest sins.

Just a few seconds, short moments that might not have been that short, Jaehyun couldn’t tell, might have blessed out, but then Youngho was by his side, arms warm around his middle as they pulled him in, until he was resting stomach down against his spouse’s side. The covers they had soiled no longer beneath them, they were fulfilling their purpose, blanketing their nude forms covered in sweat and liquids he didn’t really want to think about. It was too much, still, too much to think about, too much to consider, too much to process, because his whole body hurt, his thighs cramping and his hips aching, back sore, chest bruised. He didn’t know where to start taking in his current state when his mind was fuzzy, when sleep was calling, exhaustion finally having caught up to him. There was just one thing he was ironically aware of, a torturous little thought he tried to push aside, banish to the back of his mind, no thing he even wanted to consider when sleep sounded so sweet and his husband’s heady scent was lulling him in. 

Because perhaps it was only his heart hurting more than his behind. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

The boy was sitting closer to the shore this morning, toes touching the edge of the water. Linen as light as the sky, as heavy as the sea, the hues of blue seemed just right. Fingers that restlessly dug through the sand, and he just silently watched from a few feet away. There was something unsettling about the boy today, air vibrating with exhilaration - excitement. Nerves. He couldn’t put his hands on it.

He could only watch, take in the broad shoulders filling in the fabric prettily, brown hair tousled by the sun, messed up, thrown this way and that. It was a tender contrast to pale skin glowing under the sun. Or maybe the boy was the sun, radiating light whenever he appeared within his sight. He didn’t know, couldn’t tell. 

Instead of saying anything that would prove to be full of useless silence, their voices not granted to them, not a gift he had been handed yet. Instead of parting his lips for faded words, he stepped forward. Closer. His fingers curled around the boy’s shoulder, and for a moment his nerves fluttered, the short second it took for him to realize the boy would not just dissolve again. 

There were ripples on blue, as if his hands had met water rather than flesh. It did not matter, not when the body did not dissolve again. Slowly he rubbed his thumbs along tense shoulders, little circles causing ripples. They did nothing to stop the restless behavior of the boy, fingers curling around sand, again and again. Grab it, lift it, drop it. Repetitive motion, it did not stop. No matter how much he wished the man would stop, he did not. 

Grab it, lift it, drop it. 

Not even the wind could blow the stubborn grains away. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

“So how did you get so good at your job?” Jaehyun asked, words muffled by the way he had to mumble them into his mare’s hair rather than releasing them into the open air. It couldn’t be helped, he had long since given up on sitting upright, ignored the surprised look that garnered him from Yuta, who know him as their upright prince, or the amused expression the Emperor flashed for a second, because he was too damn sore to bare with his saddle rubbing against his aching behind when he had to put his weight on it at the same time. After some consideration, maybe he should just get rid of the saddle too, just put a blanket on his mare and have her trot forward while he was trying to relax on her back. She was trained well, knew to follow the herd, and if he remembered right, his saddle had that funny little thing that allowed him to keep only the stirrups tied around her middle. 

His husband was cruel. Bastard. Menace. He ignored the dull and punishing thud within his chest because it seemed justified now, for his oh-so-beloved spouse had scheduled their heading out for some lukewarm honeymoon for the day after their wedding. As if they hadn’t both been able to predict that this animal of man would attempt getting his voice hoarse from moaning and crying at least for half the night. Three orgasms in the evening. Another two in the morning. Almost another three but Youngho hadn’t allowed him to cum from dreaming only. 

“You’re saying this as if you didn’t fare against Jeno pretty well, Your Highness,” Renjun amended them from in the front, and this was a change, the way they so openly replied to him by now. During their first travel, when they had returned to the capital, when these same guards had escorted him, none of the likes had taken place. “Your Highness might have survived encountering him on a battlefield.”

Regarding Jaehyun’s question, there was no delay between Renjun’s answer and Jeno picking up, “We fight.” It seems to be an explanation sufficient for everyone else, all the guards’ heads snapping towards the one soldier who had dared speaking up, a secret that shouldn’t be told spilled, and the way it was a secret was evident through the way the young man looked at the Emperor and Jaehyun could _feel_ Johnny shrugging, without having to turn his head to look. “Since the day we arrive at the school, we learn to fight and prove our skills in matches against other soldiers, and in death matches against one another. Those who survive until adulthood join the guard.”

“You fight? Against one another?” Jaehyun repeated, flabbergasted more than anything as he tried to let it sink in, that little story he was told, as he tried to imagine it. Barely kids arriving at whatever place this was - a _school_ , as he noted with bitter irony in his mind - with their only goal being to attack one another, trust a useless thing when you could never knew whose blade you were next to encounter. A battle royale, and royalty was the goal they had to race a bloody way towards. “That’s barbaric-”

“Well, I am glad I graduated before them,” another guard spoke up, one Jaehyun had barely talked to, duties keeping him by the Emperor’s side rather than the prince consort’s, but there was misplaced amusement to his voice, “I’m not sure I’d have survived another year there with them there.” A subtle tilt of his chin in the duo’s direction, towards Renjun and Jeno, and by association it would include the other four sharing their age. There were no more, as much even the newlywed was aware of, and the missing quadruplet somewhere behind them, making up their rear behind Yuta.

It was in his own guard’s face only, the mirrored shock - or lack thereof. A habit he knew of his companion, of all his own soldiers, to hide their emotions in serious situations lest they be used against them, and habits were hard to grow out of, so it didn’t surprise the brunet that these same habits came up when Yuta was surprised, too. “It’s barbaric,” he repeated, louder, his eyes trained on his own guard’s face, as he tried to imagine the gentle knight in a similar situation, having to fight his way past their own soldiers. They weren’t rich enough in population to afford such loss of people.

“Their families are very well aware of what they get their children into,” Doyoung tried to throw in, ever the mediator, words Jaehyun didn’t want to listen to. “Any child who becomes part of the military faces the risk of battle and death, Your Highness. You should know so as good as us.”

The younger can’t help the little startled noise, his walls broken down by his own poor state, but it’s the idea of these soldiers - broken children, hands marred with blood, the trail of corpses accompanying their path since so long, uselessly spilled tears - that has him sitting up to be level with Youngho. Because this, too, was new. No longer was he riding at the back, always a distance away. He had claimed the place next to his husband instead, four horses riding in line, where it not for the many wars he was aware had been led, he’d be surprised the paths were even fit for all of them, stomped flat roads used for trades now occupied by them. “There’s honor in dying at your enemy’s hand. What do you call it when you die through your ally’s sword instead?”

“Jaehyun.” It was the single call of his name, usually said with so much tender care which was entirely omitted now, swallowed by the serious hues of the Emperor’s voice. Nail hammered into splintered wood, organic fiber cracking apart. It was his heart taking the hit instead. “You gave up your honor for my crown. Do you think you are in any place to judge?”

At these words, the younger couldn’t help baring his teeth, almost animalistic as he looked at his husband with upset, accusation filled with betrayal. “Those are not the same-”

“They are not different,” Youngho shot him down, fingers tense around the leather of his reigns, a detail Jaehyun couldn’t help noticing. “You denied yourself what you call the honor of dying at your enemy’s head because you chose the easy way out. You didn’t wage a war with me, despite you claiming it to be the right thing to do.”

“The position of a soldier is barely comparable to that of a prince, Youngho. I am not that sort of barbarian to tell people to die for my selfish reasons and-” He halted, startled by the minute flash of hurt he could see painted across the older’s features. It didn’t fit, misplaced, should not be drawn upon this ruthlessly stern visage. 

“And?” The Emperor prompted him, and this day more than any since their first wedding the blond seemed like the man he had encountered during their first encounter - cold eyes and relaxed pose, obnoxious wealth, unhaltered arrogance. A flair so uncomfortable it sent chills down the younger’s spine, had him square his shoulders more. A lion and a bear, and the topic they discussed was the rabbit trapped in the center of the circle they drew. “Did you mean to call me a selfish barbarian?”

“Yes.” The word had left Jaehyun’s mouth before he had realized, and the moment he did, he felt his heart drop like a boulder thrown into the sea, falling and sinking and taking so long to hit the ocean ground. There was sadness engulfing him, no warm blanket of the likes his mother had prepared for him, it was cold and clam and had him feel uncomfortable as he sank down again, avoided his husband’s reaction as he returned to his original position, slumped over his mare’s back, his head turned Jeno’s way rather than his husband’s. Whispering, a faint sound he knew couldn’t be picked up on, he repeated, “I meant to say just that…” He wondered why it felt so wrong to say now. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

It was later at night, after days of tense moods, that Jaehyun encountered Youngho sitting at the edge of the small but violent stream near their camp, the flow of water reminding him of the general they were missing and meaning to meet soon enough. A hunting trip was what the older had called it, settle in a little summer palace away from the capital to enjoy their time together - a palace stolen from another crown, a country without leader, turned into a province, until eventually the entire continent might belong to the Empire alone. Scary thoughts, Jaehyun hoped they wouldn’t become reality during his lifetime still. Impossible thoughts, for he had secured his own kingdom’s longevity through contract upon his marriage.

None of which he mentioned now as he looked at the nude form of his husband for another moment, bare legs residing within the surely shockingly cold water, rivulets caused from the encounter of fluid and solid, liquid against flesh, and Jaehyun just watched. Hesitation kept within his heart had him remain within his position for longer than he should, not when he was aware his words had strained their fragile relationship. One-sided efforts, it’s what he would call it to an extent, and an accusation he was guilty of because his efforts weren’t _visible_. Where Youngho could create him a little garden for studies, design a beautiful piece of clothing, give him the freedom he needed, Jaehyun was always stuck in his head, insisting to go on the way he had already set and the branches and roots obscuring his path were but nuisances he had to cut off. To not do so, to bend and duck and raise his feet was an effort seen by no one but him. 

For just another moment, he told himself, he wanted to enjoy this sight, golden skin reflecting the white of the moon, a sculpture, with the finest muscle lines made more prominent under such distinct light. It was the sort of body he had envied as kid, when he had only just started training, with his hopeful eyes turned upwards when he watched their most honored knights put their physique into shape, a depiction of strength that would be hard to imitate. Back then, he had been filled with envy, with childish innocence and zealous to look the same - now there was longing in his heart, the physical craving to be close again, a feeling he had been denied in the recent days. Because he _knew_ Youngho was there, accompanied him at night, because it marked the time he went from fitful to calm, restless sleep turning into mellow dreams and then upsetting minutes again, when his husband left before the sun had risen. It was by no means ideal, and it was even less of what he wanted than their earlier balance, it was longing in his heart for proximity he was denied, the string tied around that little bloody piece making him feel as if he were choked, barely kept not to suffocate.

Tender thread made of iron, it tugged him forward, tug-of-war between his will and Youngho’s presence so close by, it was his mind that was losing, tripping over guilt, not for he hadn’t spoken his truth but because he had done so carelessly, without thought and consideration. Things left to clarify, he didn’t want to leave them unspoken when already their bond had been decided for life. “Your sister,” he started silently as he stepped closer, slow as he undid his shirt and spread it out on a stone, his fingers already hooking around the hem of his pants as well, “told me to be honest with you, for as long as I breathe, I should tell you the truth. So that nothing will stand between us as we live together.” His clothes on the ground, he sat down, with his arms crossed on top of his knees, chin resting on top. Bare skin, bare heart - he was showing his all, was aware that details as miniscule as these said more than first glance might imply. 

“While I grew up, my father always told me to keep an eye on the Empire. ‘They are a mightful ally, Jaehyun,’ he’d tell me, and Taeyong and I learned about it - the trades and all.” Jaehyun couldn’t help smiling softly at the memory, of his father’s exasperated face because two kids were harder to handle than one, of the many afternoons spent at the library studying. “‘They won’t hesitate to start a war if they can win so you should not upset them.’ And I tried to keep that in mind for the years your father reigned. And then the stories changed - which you must be aware of, actually.” He exhaled slowly, tried to gather his wits as he hid his face from sight. “You were a monster in my eyes before you were anything else, Youngho. An Emperor who starts wars? The biggest kingdom on this continent and you decide to use your power for that? To suppress us all? Coerce us? It’s not exactly what I could stomach since then.”

Without looking, he was more than aware that the Emperor hadn’t moved, golden body statuesque, immobile. There was no other way to describe it than to say each movement possibly coming from his husband was like an echo reverberating through his heart, vibrations in the air charged between them that was received by the insides of his chest. No movement didn’t mean the older wasn’t listening, though, and it was this belief that kept him going anyways. 

“Back home I was always taught not to look for conflict. If Taeyong got into a fight with some servant’s kid, I had to stay put and swallow my anger down even when he got beaten up. Because I wasn’t supposed to turn into a king who uses his fists to resolve matters,” he confessed and, a little softer, added, “I always mended his wounds afterwards, though. Because Taeyong stood up for me. But war-” He stopped, took a breath. The water was cold around his feet as he dipped his toes inside. “War wasn’t ever an option for me, Youngho. We don’t have the army to, don’t have the equipment to, and carry a sense of responsibility towards our nation I always felt you were lacking. This kind of mindset is not something I can get rid off just because I married you, Youngho, and you’ll have to understand that I am unwilling to as well. Conflict is not the method to use to resolve matters, and that is something I still strongly believe in.”

There was silence between them, weighing heavy, not even the chirping of cicadas easing such tension for, as if nature itself had sensed it, their surroundings were quaint as well. The murmur of camp had died when all had gone to rest, the nightwatch up, possibly listening in on them, certainly watching them. The whisper of the water flowing, stream breaking around their limbs, splattering softly, tried to wash away their worries right then. The stars twinkling, they were mute where they granted them their light from, adorning the firmament so far above them. 

“Do you still think that?” The older eventually asked that, and it was so unexpected that Jaehyun startled lightly, interrupted the quietude between them. His gaze weighed heavy where it rested on the younger’s face, carefully guarded but it wasn’t closed off, like a child looking past the corner, trying to find out how angry their parents were before stepping out. It would be adorable on anyone else. “Do you still think that I am a monster?”

Having a knife pressed against his throat might be easier to handle this right now, the knowledge that his every word could worsen their current situation, the cliffs between them he had already admitted to. Jaehyun could only smile sadly as he looked at his husband, toes removed from the cold water so he could curl up further. “I do. Because you are one. You kill people without second thought. You think war is the easy way out. You slaughter people with less remorse than an animal preying for food,” he confessed slowly, turned his head to the side so he could finally look at Youngho more properly. “So I wonder - why is it that I seem to hate you less with every single day?”

Shaky inhale, for once it wasn’t his own. For as much as his husband showed his emotions, this might have been the most distinct sign of - loss of control affecting even his body, this lack of hiding, walls lowered and it was evident, was shown in the way those impossibly dark eyes softened like chocolate molten in a pot. Liquid bittersweetness, cozy taste if sweetened with sugar and milk. Bittersweet like the kisses they shared, all tongue and teeth and glistening berry colored lips. “You don’t hate me…”

Jaehyun smiled lightly before he untangled his limbs, could feel the older’s gaze observing his every move as he pushed himself off the boulder to step into the water instead. Shivers and goosebumps trailed his body, circulation going haywire as he stepped further and further inside, until the water, at its highest point, barely reached his upper thighs. “I do not hate you, Youngho. Albeit you are a monster but monsters, I realize now,” he declared as he turned around to look at his husband, beckoned him closer with a crook of his fingers, “Monsters can be tamed too. And if I need to do that to make you stop these reasonless things then I’ll keep trying until our time is over.”

Faster than he had realized, the Emperor was stood in front of him, warmth radiating from skin that contrasted the cold pooling around their legs, hands that were warm as they cupped his cheeks to pull him up, pull him into a kiss that meant more than simple words. Gestures could express more than syllables, a touch convey more than all the dictionaries ever written, a codex of vocabulary poured into his mouth, and like a man dying of thirst he gulped them all down as if they were the salvaging drops of water he so urgently craved. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

The sun setting, kissing the ocean, meeting the horizon - it was a beautiful background for the man standing in front of it, watching ahead. There was no breeze to ruffle through the boy’s hair, no gust to tug on the boy’s clothes. It was still, unnaturally so. 

He wasn’t certain what he should feel at first, he could sense there was something off. Electricity in the air ahead of a storm. Gut feelings off on a bad day. Seeing the hit before it connected. His eyes were fixed on the boy nonetheless.

The boy moved first. One tentative step followed by a less hesitant one, another more decisive. Before he could follow, already the boy was swallowed by the sea, water soaking clothes, body halfway swallowed by the waves. 

He wanted to follow, but it was the sea not to allow him. Whenever he stepped forward, the water retreated, waves pulling back. He was forced to tread the same piece of sand time and time again, could only watch as the boy turned around to look at him with eyes as sweet and bright as honey. 

“You-” The boy started, and the moment he perceived it, the man was pulled under the waves by an invisible force. Body thrashing, water splaying, limbs flailing. The ocean did not accept his help. He was trapped in place, forced to watch the boy be pulled under the water, disappear from his sight. Honeyed eyes were the last thing he could think of as he looked at the sun.

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

The bed was empty when Jaehyun woke up come morning, a detail which wouldn’t be so abnormal most days, not when Youngho had made it a habit to get up before him, get ready and dressed before he’d move on to get Jaehyun out of bed as well, usually resulting in the younger arriving at the already set table for breakfast only shortly after. It was different this morning because the spot next to him was cold, already chilled from prolonged lack of body warmth, because the sun had already risen further than normally. Based on only that, he was well aware they should already be out and on the way for the hunt, track down the animals they could grill over fire for dinner or process in whatever other ways the cooks could come up with. The lack of noise as well, it was more than a dead giveaway that his husband had left him behind, and for once it was not the soreness of his body this could be blamed upon. This, after days of the Emperor taking advantage of having a bed at the ready again, was the first day he didn’t feel as strained.

Ruffling his hair, he sat up, one hand in his tousled tresses while he reached for a pillow with his other to throw in the direction of the door, a sound that wasn’t too startling but enough to prompt the doors to open regardless. Yuta’s face wasn’t exactly the one he wanted to be greeted _good morning_ by, but it was what he got, and it was better than the snarky little general who would give him the stinky eye any time he got, no longer daring to do it right in front of the Emperor’s eyes after having been physically reprimanded once before.

The unasked question was easy to be read off Jaehyun’s face, apparently, for the guard grinned not unlike a shark - a beautiful creature, dangerous, slinky, and one Jaehyun had only been allowed to see once before. One look and he had been captivated, an animal to have him entrapped, his heart caught in endearment, one he craved to see again. “They headed out already, Jae. It’s only us and your favorite boy now so I vote we open the wine your husband denied us and-” Just about to make the gesture for drinking a cup, the older was interrupted by the royal rolling out of bed suddenly, not even blinking at the nude state of the prince consort.

“I got a way better idea, Yuta,” the brunet declared as he stretched his arms upwards on his short way over to the basin filled with water for him. “Go dress in your most casual clothes. No imperial insignia and none of mine either. And tell Jeno to do the same.”

For a moment, the knight remained quiet, his eyebrows furrowed in consideration. “I smell bad ideas… Totally in then.” With a grin, and just like that, the matter seemed to be settled, Yuta gone, and Jaehyun was left to himself in his task to get ready for the day. Washing up a quick task, finding clothes that didn’t look like belonging to the richest of the rich was more challenging, though, ended only when he scoured the closets along the wall to find the former ruler’s worn down clothes. 

A light cloak thrown over his arm and a small loaf of bread stuck between his teeth, he grinned widely when he found the two guards waiting for him at the door, dressed not too much unlike him. Even their weapons, he noted with a satisfied glint, had been exchanged, switched from those adorned with the royal emblems to simpler ones, and undoubtedly as sharply cutting as those they had been wearing before.

“Your Highness!” Jeno exclaimed, taking one decisive step forward, albeit such set mind didn’t seem to be reflected on his face, “Yuta said you want to go to town but might I remind you that you’re not safe out there. Times are still a bit unruly and no praetor had been put into position yet so we can’t guarantee for your safety and-”

“Are you saying you can’t protect me, Jeno?” Jaehyun asked, a hint of glee in his tone as he brushed by the two, pushing open the doors without hesitation. Naturally, taking the horses would be the quickest solution but horses meant money he didn’t want to show he possessed. A honeymoon he had been promised, a time for leisure and relaxation, a few days for them to take delight in each other’s company without interruption from the outside, albeit _outside_ was a stretchy term, because he had still overheard his husband discuss business and politics, business he wasn’t meant to talk about in a place meant to celebrate their union instead.

A confused little noise - an adorable noise not befitting that tough front at all - slipped the guard’s lips, steps hurried as he took after the older. “No, that’s not-”

“Then I have nothing to worry about, right?” The prince consort replied with a dimpled smile, already holding out his hand to receive a weapon of his own from his personal guard. With two against one, their youngest had no choice but to obey in first place, the guard who must understand better than anyone else how Jaehyun had felt, trapped within the palace grounds he was usually able to leave so freely. An impossibility then, a risky chance now. 

Maybe he could have headed out, explored the capital himself, but he doubted it would have been such an easy task - not with guards tailing his every step, unlikely to take off their uniforms for him, not with Youngho’s insignia locked around his wrist, carefully hidden underneath his sleeve now, fabric weighed down with a few simple bracelets of his own, not with with people recognizing him as the prince consort, their wary gazes like daggers stabbing his heart. This was a province, though, a place where rumors might have reached but no one had seen his face, where he could still try to hide, pretend for just a day that he was not who he was, someone simpler, a ruler beloved by his people rather than feared. Because that he missed, the warm smiles he received from the grandmothers at the market, the brotherly hands on his shoulder when he stopped by a shop, the uncles offering him a drink with the widest grins as if they weren’t well aware he had always denied them unto then. 

There was no halting Jaehyun as he simply went on, headed down the trail he remembered to lead into town, a twenty minute way if they rode, a walk that would take much longer than that, and plenty of opportunity for him to run his mouth if he desired as much. “You shouldn’t address me so formally for while we’re out, Jeno. By doing that, you will only draw unwanted attention upon us,” he pointed out, fingers fiddling with the strings of his cloak around his neck, for even sweating underneath it seemed more comfortable than having to carry it on his arms right then. “Actually - I know you’re just following Youngho’s orders but you don’t need to be as formal with me. I didn’t cut off Yuta’s head for a decade now, I surely won’t do that with you either.”

“It’s not you I am worried about, Your Hi- Sir,” Jeno scrambled to correct himself at Jaehyun’s warning gaze. “The Emperor won’t accept me calling you by anything else than your title. If he heard me be as respectless as I am right now-”

“He just gave you permission, Jeno.” Yuta grinned, warmer than during the morning as he had greeted the royal first. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Don’t think too much about it.”

“But he told me to think more,” the youngest protested innocently indignantly, prompting the other guard to laugh, whereas Jaehyun could only smile. He left them to bicker by themselves, had them take delight in their little fight as he just went on, not even listening properly when his eyes and mind were trained on the city ahead of them alone. It took time, to see as much as the roofs peeking out above treetops, red shingles that were so different to what he was used to seeing until then, both his old and new homes alike. A sight that motivated him, had him speed up without knowing, and it were neither Yuta nor Jeno to hold him back as they simply adjusted to his pace, the quick step of his legs across the forest-framed path. 

Above them, the sun had barely reached its high, shadows falling almost perfectly straight as they crossed the gates without bother, imperial soldiers that recognized a higher rank without prompt. It was Jeno’s impact, too, that had them remain quiet, no questions asked, as the little group entered the city. An invisible border, like feeling warm water on his sore muscles, it was the tension falling off Jaehyun’s shoulders instead, the relief at finally being allowed to be a mere somebody, not a nobody, not a person of impact, just another traveler looking around places they had never seen before.

There was no helping the way his expression brightened immediately, at the lack of attention, amiss curious looks thrown his way, the sudden rush to keep their manners around royalty because they didn’t know. On the contrary, people hardly paid attention to them, maybe glanced at the weapons they carried but this, too, wouldn’t be too unusual for travelers on their way. If not robbers and bandits, there were wild animals, creatures eager to tear apart those regarded as their prey, and humans were just one of those befitting such category. 

“I don’t know about you but I really crave some proper meal now,” Jaehyun smiled widely, the scent of freshly cooked dishes wafting their direction from one of the taverns around. “What do you say?” Such was no more than a rhetoric question, after all, it was him to carry the money, some coins he had taken along, and it was him who, at the end of the day, called the shots, held the highest authority, one they couldn’t refuse listening to. At least for Yuta it didn’t seem like there was any intention to, either, and it was the exact reason they ended up sitting on some lithic patio, a surprising setup, one he only knew from markets, when foreign traders brought unfamiliar treats and invited people to take a seat. This one belonged to a tavern, though, not to some market of coincidentally grouped together people. 

It was the setting and the food that took the last of his tension off, had him simply indulge in what they had to offer, had him talk even their tense youngest give in to the temptations of a good meal, fed by bits and bites Jaehyun kept piling on his plate. When considering that his own brother was barely younger than Jeno, it seemed almost natural to do these things, it was all the more amusing when he saw how it had the guard shift uncomfortably, clearly not knowing what it’s like to be taken care of by a royal of all people. 

“Do you never do that?” The prince consort asked in between bites, his chin propped up on his palm as he watched the younger carefully take one bite after another, as if each bite could contain poison, hit and fail with every mouthful again. He didn’t voice it, the suspicion he had that, despite all that confident behavior, Jeno could not possibly have been too familiar with this attitude of taking care of one another. “I guess you don’t… Youngho also looked surprised when I first shared my food with him. It’s funny, because it was normal at home. We’d just get a big plate of steamed fish and all people around the table would share with each other.”

There was sweetness in recalling these events, these days when dinners had been more fun than stiff organization, when his family had tried their best at breaking the stiffness of court by doing things as mundanely as possible. Naturally, his mother hadn’t known to cook, his father unknowing of where to find the silver, his brother might not even know how to put on the fires in the palace kitchen, and it was okay for as long as they had servants to take care of this. But having two people sat in a dining hall meant for twenty, table perfectly void of dishes to try as they were brought out one by one had been unsettling, had made him uncomfortable, talk to his husband for weeks before they had moved to a smaller room for breakfast and dinner alike. 

“Jaemin likes to do that for us,” Jeno finally answered, at a lower volume, as if it were something embarrassing to admit to, and where it was to the black haired, it was a sweet confession in Jaehyun’s ears who was just about to reach out to ruffle up the adolescent’s hair in an affectionate gesture when the same suddenly stood up. Tender emotions wiped off his face, stains washed away by the rain, as that amiable face turned into a mask again, followed by a neatly executed bow that almost had him dive into the plates.

Jaehyun didn’t understand immediately, why the younger was suddenly startled out of their little conversation, not until he heard the almost sneering voice behind him speak up. “Your Highness. I didn’t anticipate to meet you here of all places.”

By instinct, feeling the sudden increase of attention on them, the royal clasped his hand around his wrist, made sure linen was hiding gold, keeping this impossible to mistake insignia of his hidden. It took his all not to stand up and look like the kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar he felt like being, instead he forced a smile upon his face as he turned his head to look at Ten, dressed in light armor, a handful of soldiers waiting on the street, faces carefully guarded but eyes filled with unkempt curiosity. “Neither did I, General,” he replied as calm as he could, fingers fiddling with the wrist cuff he could feel through his sleeve, looking for distraction he wouldn’t be offered otherwise, not when wherever he looked people were looking too. _Take care of the Emperor’s watchdog before it bites your nape but watch and enjoy as he takes down other prey_. “Albeit I think you just ended my peaceful days. Do you take delight in making me miserable?”

Ten, for a lack of better words, looked surprised at these words, and Jaehyun wasn’t sure why it was he was on the general’s black list, after all, it had never been him to be harsh on the soldier, had been his husband instead, speaking with harsh words and even harsher gestures. “I was not aware caring for your security was making you miserable, Your Highness.”

Seeing the shift in Yuta’s posture, Jaehyun was quick to reach out his hand, sign his guard to keep it down. Pitching two upset dogs against another in a fight was never a good idea, and it wasn’t a situation he wanted to end up having to discuss with Youngho who would never understand this certain sort of freedom he craved. There were limits to all, and the limit to his own liberties was where safety was a factor they could no longer guarantee. 

“I think I was safer before you talked to me, General,” he pointed out instead, tilted his head meaningfully towards the many faces turned their way. A detail he did no longer feel like talking about so, instead of adding more, he simply got up, put some coins down on the table. Surely more than the owner would have asked for on their own. “Tell your soldiers to enjoy the meal, Ten. It’s time for us to head back to our accommodation.”

This, at least, was a hint the two knew better than not to take, standing up with an ease that rivaled the relaxed state they had shown just moments before. They were silent as they headed out first, joining the other soldiers on the street, and Jaehyun was just about to follow behind them when he heard an unknown voice call, “Your Highness!”

A stranger, a man he didn’t know, possibly drunk, possibly just upset, headed their way, and then things happened faster than he could follow. The gold of his cuff reflected under the sun, a greasy blade was pointed his way. A sliver of silver. Jaehyun tried to ignore the way red seared his skin through the fabric of his shirt. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

No matter how much someone got prepared for certain tasks, in the end, all that preparation never was a guarantee for success. Regardless of the many speeches Jaehyun had learnt to write, he might have forgotten how to pronounce the words due to nerves, no matter how many names and titles he had memorized, one too many sips of wine and they’d have all slipped his mind. Regardless of the many hours he spent training on the field, nothing could have prepared him for the real deal, with no means to train his reflexes and build up reaction speed. In the end, it was better he had not chosen war, for he was no longer certain he could have bested the Emperor if his life were at stake. 

Like phantom touches, he could still feel the warmth of blood seeping through his clothes, had felt it chill and dry against his skin on the way home, believed he could still feel it despite having scrubbed on his skin and burnt the clothes. Careless like he wasn’t used to be, and no one had commented on it as he had simply sat down in the hearing room, his gaze fixed straight ahead, at the emblem of a family which no longer was, not daring to look away even as his eyes started to burn. Anything to not have to close his lids and recall the earlier scene. Frozen in place and he didn’t even flinch when he heard the doors slam shut, wood colliding with its match resonating down the hall to where he was already waiting, and he really shouldn’t be surprised to see his husband as agitated as he was.

“Youngho-” He had barely started his greeting when already warm fingers were clasped around his cheeks, tilting his head upwards so he could see, for the smallest fracture of a second, the worry on the Emperor’s face. It was gone before he had as much as blinked his eyes, replaced by anger right again.

“Are you out of your mind, Jaehyun? What lunacy befell you to think heading out to town alone was a smart idea?” Words just short of yelled, they were finally enough to get a rise out of the younger who reached up to break their points of contact, free his cheeks of the warmth that felt cold. Perhaps he was spoiled at heart, a prince through and through, reminded more than ever that such stunt would not end with a motherly embrace to soothe his nerves, that this was the time he had to abandon these needs. “And you,” the Emperor continued seemingly without a care, albeit Jaehyun could see the angry tremble within those pushed away hands, the way those calloused digits jittered as they were tightened into fists, and fiery eyes met Jeno’s expressionless face, “what were you thinking letting him go there? I should have you suffer that same sort of punishment for endangering-”

“Youngho!” The younger interrupted sharply, not loud, because sometimes it was not volume one needed to garner attention, sometimes silence told more than the loudest yell, a detail proven now as silence set like a blanket around them, covering the child at night, soothing the nightmares out of its fragile body. “Raising your sword is not the way to absolve my wishes. I am still above him in hierarchy, so going along with my demands was his only task as my guard.” For a second he wondered why it was that his husband’s eyes looked so much bigger, so much darker, until he realized it was no optic illusion, had just been him to rise to his feet without realizing. 

No more was needed than seeing the older part his lips in retaliation, veins protruding beneath glistening gold, showing how strained his husband’s throat was, ready to deliver another outburst of words. “It’s not even like anyone realize who I was until-” His eyes falling upon Ten’s figure near the door, the man who had both endangered and saved him, he cut himself off before he could spill secrets he was not meant to confess. Running his mouth without thought, it had gotten him into trouble just days ago, he wasn’t about to put someone else through the same. 

“Until what?” The Emperor asked, voice no more than a low growl, inhuman in all its aspects, and Jaehyun’s gaze snapped back like a whip flung, protecting the general before the blonde could as much as trace where his eyes had gone off to. 

“Until I slipped.” There was defiance in his words, in his glare, fingers curling around the too long sleeves of his dress shirt. “The cuff you put on my wrist was revealed and my assaulter recognized it. I do not think there is anyone you should blame for my mistakes but me. And unless it is me whose head you want to cut off and display on a spear or whatever gruesome ideas your mind can come up with, you better rest your case. Because I just watched a man lose his head in front of my eyes and my heart is not cold like yours to accept this as a justified deed.”

“You called me a monster, Jaehyun. Do you remember that?” Youngho asked, a question entirely unrelated, and it had the younger freezing in his step, about to bypass his husband to get to their bedroom and rest, was accompanied by a warm hand curling around his nape, without pressure, grounding more than threatening, and still, the brunet felt like suffocating. “I think between the two of us you are the greater monster.” A needle might be dropped and resound louder than stormy thunder, the tension in the room almost palpable, loaded and charged, lighting about to hit, and none of the knights around dared make a move lest they disturb the twisted and bent crowned. “I could have lost you earlier and still you demand I keep my cool. Time and time I try to prove you my love but all you care about is some peasant wanting to cut your throat!”

Words progressively getting louder, a shout Jaehyun wouldn’t be able to escape from even if he tried, screams he was certain might have woken him from his deathbed even, loud enough to drown out the heavy beating of his heart, the rush of his blood echoing in his ears. An illusion, empty shells pressed to his head. Empty shells that weren’t as empty, were housing a little beast aiming for his heart, pincers cutting up that useless organ, torn to pieces from that thread tightening around it to the point it hurt. 

He could see the mirror image of it in Youngho’s eyes, the pain, cutting their insides apart, tearing them to pieces. Emotions too intense to handle, heart beating to fast, threatening to drown out the reality surrounding them, swallow them like a shark hunting for prey. Small fish in the grand and vast ocean, a nimble little organ, drowned out by the might of the seas, and Jaehyun felt like drowning in this ambush of feels at once. 

It was the smallest touch of a thumb against the pearl dangling from his ear that pulled him back at once, waves retreating far and further, collecting their strength to turn into something way bigger, way dangerous, and before it could snap, before the sea could consume them in one violent move - he pulled away. A drawing can tell a thousand tales, but maybe his eyes had done the same, right at that time, as he pulled away, left behind the man who had bared his heart. Maybe he was a monster, he could not imagine what it must have taken Youngho to confess, to say these things, and yet he could, for days ago he had been the same, had bared his heart, spoken his truth, and his efforts had been rewarded. The same could not be said for now, because no matter how much he tried to school his heart, some things Jaehyun could never be ready for after all. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

Jaehyun maybe was naive, sometimes unsuspecting, but he wasn’t stupid, he knew when someone was trying to avoid him and he knew that, this time for sure, it was not unjustified, was not something he could blame Youngho for. Neither did he want to let this go on for too long - a few hours, hopefully these would be sufficient, enough for them to calm their hearts, for his most certainly was. He could feel it again, this longing, tug-of-war, more intense than ever before, as if this string itself was urging him to make up for his mistakes. Naively, he had tried to use this same string to get his husband to come back to him, had felt like a lunatic trying to make use of something that might as well be imaginary. He would have considered it as such if he weren’t aware there was a counterpart, was a man having dreamt of him for decades. There was nothing normal about this, and sometimes it was the lack of normalcy that made it more real.

In the end, when his superstitious beliefs had proven to bear no fruits, he had resigned to the more humane ways, had put off all the lights in their room before he settled in bed, back against the headboard and head turned towards the windows, towards the sky so mockingly void of the moon. How ironic, when just days ago they had been receiving its blessing at night, and now it was gone, hidden from his guilty eyes. It had been intentional, this lack of light, and maybe the moon was helping him after all, guiding secret meetings of lovers forbidden to meet, illuminating paths only those with the right heart were supposed to walk, stitches crossed, fingers tangling, lips meeting. He gave himself whiplash turning his head as fast when he heard the doors open, elevated at the knowledge his ploy had worked, to make Youngho believe he was fast asleep in best case, already gone at worst. 

Intrinsic knowledge, a seed planted and grown within his heart, such was the awareness of Youngho’s emotions even when he couldn’t see. He could feel the surprise, the little flinch the Emperor acted out when recognizing their shared bedroom was not empty after all, and before the supposed monster of war could leave, Jaehyun was already set on his knees, reaching for a lover out of his realm, too far away, but not out of listening range. “My parents didn’t marry out of love. My mother- She was a noble woman from another continent. Stranded on the beach after shipwreck. But she was meant to marry my father and before the knowledge of the incident had reached her parents, their bond had already been sealed.”

A shaky breath escaped him, this story he was certain not even Sungchan had heard just yet. A story he told his husband in means of moving his heart, perhaps it worked, at least it did not drive his spouse away. “They didn’t- She couldn’t even speak our language at first. But she told me that, despite all the struggles they faced in the beginning, they always shared their bed at night. She strongly believed - believes - that the night they stop sleeping next to each other marks the end of their marriage and love. So I too-” He could see it, but he couldn’t, the way fingers curled tighter around the door handle, hesitating, considering. He could feel the imprint of against his own palm. “I do not want to go to bed without knowing you’ll sleep next to me, Youngho. I do not want this to end before it even started.”

Like a spell of magic, enchantment underneath the missing moon, it worked, for the older stepped forth and closed the door, still a distance away but no longer was a border put between them, no longer where they stood between doors, kept apart. No walls to climb, no gates to tear down, the air between them was a length Jaehyun knew he could defeat. “You almost ended it today, Jaehyun…”

“I know,” he breathed, slowly, slid a bit further across the sheets, closer to the edge of the bed, watching for any sign telling him the older might pull away. There was none of the likes. “I know, Youngho. And you have to believe me it was not my intention. I was safe. I had Yuta, and I had Jeno. Nobody knew me or recognized me. So nothing would have happened-”

“Something _did_ happen.” It was no question, was a justified interruption, and for the first time Jaehyun could recall, ever since their first encounter, ever since their first and second marriage, there was _pain_ in Youngho’s voice. His strong and proud Emperor, skin mapped with countless scars, the man who did not flinch at people dying, so cruel and ruthless, so cold and sold, was in _pain_ at the thought of losing him. A consolidation he didn’t want, and yet the loosening string around his heart told him it was what he needed. “And something could have happened to you, Jaehyun. I only just got you! You can’t just-”

“You got me,” the younger repeated softly, settled his feet on the ground, floor shockingly warm beneath his feet, his body gone cold from waiting in anguish for too long. There was warmth radiating from the other, and like a flower turning for the sun, a tree growing high to get more light, a moth flying towards the candle at night, Jaehyun stepped forward as well. “You got me, Youngho. And I won’t leave. I will not go anywhere. So don’t go anywhere else either.”

Magic working, thread snapping. It was the moment those hands curled warmly around his neck that the strings seemed to fall, his heart released and trapped at once, no longer confined to his chest as he had already put it into these same hands. Warmth seeped through his body, spread from that point of contact, and he couldn’t help the faintest smile when he felt the other’s thumb play with his pearl in familiar fashion. It was enough to make him slump, head dropping against the taller’s chest as he just inhaled his scent, earthy tones amplified from what must have been hours out in the woods, fresh like the soil washed by the rain, a hint of sour spice, an odor of home. 

“I won’t say that I love you, Youngho,” he whispered, because it was the truth, and it felt wrong to keep up illusions when he had already spoken so much of his heart during these darkest hours of the night. “But you were my first kiss. My first time. And I do think… I do believe you can be my first love as well…”

Certainly it must not have been what the older expected, or even wished to hear, it didn’t mean that it wasn’t also what he needed to hear. Not faux assurances, no words spoken with split tongues, it was a promise of possibility, the willingness of a shared future. A probability that weighed more than empty vows ever could, vows they had already taken, pledges spoken in front of the crown, a closed circle like their relationship was supposed to be, rounded where fights could take place but fights, just like kinks in metal, should not be enough to deter them from their paths. 

“Let me make it up to you, Youngho. Let me prove to you I mean it,” he whispered into the silence, no longer as tense, ready to be cut down, but filled with a sense of waiting, held back longing, suppressed desires. It was not physical, and yet it was what he knew, was how he knew to express himself better than with words, by offering not only his heart, not only his tongue, but the most vulnerable state of his that he kept hidden from everyone else. There was no resistance, no defying his words, as Jaehyun turned them around, slowly, carefully, and guided his lover to take a seat on the bed first. 

This night, he wanted to take his time, no hurry, no rush, just Youngho on his mind, the feeling of heated skin beneath his fingertips as he carefully pushed fabric up, unveiled the familiar skin, the faint white lines, indents and protrusions, marks of battles, fights, and worse. With every inch he dared reveal, he allowed his fingers to skim these marks, trace every badge he could reach, and like cogwheels turning, the older moved back as Jaehyun moved to kneel on the bed, leaned in to trace these touched spots with his lips as well. Not moving down, it was the other path he chose, went up, along the lines of chiseled muscles, allowing the thrum of one sweetly fast beating hard to reverberate against his lips as he remained, in place for another, longer moment. 

Fabric gone, skin revealed, and no more than a little touch needed to have the Emperor move further back, skip up towards the headboard, the spot once warm with Jaehyun’s body heat now gone cold. It reminded him of something else, their wedding night, so long ago when no fortnight had passed so far, in a room illuminated by golden candle light now swallowed by the dark, reverent touches in changed position, sweet words transformed to silence with all these little things Jaehyun didn’t have the heart to share. 

He was curious, naturally, could not help it when all these marks were like an astronomy class, the many stars whose names he could learn, the constellations that helped him navigate at night, stars that were not out of his reach for he could trace his fingers across their firmament without a need to hold back. Names he did not want to learn, truths of battles won he did not want to imagine, recklessness that had no place at such private times. Instead of asking, he kissed along them, further up again, until his lips were short of their aim, breath colliding with breath, hot air mixing and mingling, filling the little space between them.

 _If you yawn and take no care, a piece of your soul will escape before you can catch it, little prince_ , the uncle tending the gardens had told him when he had been small, plagued by restlessness at night, a side-effect of his growth spurts, as his mother had said. A kind old man, spirits returned to the sea, but Jaehyun wondered now whether there hadn’t been truth to these words, a piece of his self put into every little puff of breath, inhaled by his husband right then, dark eyes glowing at night, before they fell shut, and their breaths became one. 

No longer was the string tied around his heart, no longer was his heart aching with need, instead, more than this little organ, it was his whole self craving to be close, closer and even closer, become one once again. Heavy clothes soaked wet, pulling him down and under, further and further, swallowed the light and drowned him in soiled love’s essence, and as much as he was drenched he wanted Youngho’s mind to be filled with only him, their scents to mingle, hearts to beat in synch, his urges so animalistic and yet so pure. 

There was no rush, no need to hurry, was only slippery warmth as he wrapped his lips around the head of his husband’s cock, not to swallow him down, not showing the same eagerness as his lover prefered, not being _able_ to, but he had learned, had found his own ways to gift sweet bliss. It was not what he wanted now, was not the older’s essence he wanted on his tongue, was his spit dripping from hard and heated flesh, have it glisten even when there was no light to make it shine. Sheen layers, wet and dripping, it was only then that he was content, when his hand slid up and down so smoothly, almost as slippery as their oil forsaken somewhere in the room. 

There was no haste, but neither was there care in the way Jaehyun sat up on his knees, so well aware of the dark eyes focused on his frame, and any other time he would have taken his time, would have teased this man who was such a tease of his own, would have made sure that these eyes remained on him, watched him - devoured him. Fingers skimming clothes, he got rid of them with less thought than he had treated the already abandoned set with, and no reason was kept within his head as he moved to straddle Youngho’s hips, grinding down, a second, two, he didn’t resist the firm arms pulling him in close, making sure he was kept close, trapped, but the cage’s door was open, a maze with a map drawn out for him, string of wool showing him the way. 

With the encounter of their lips, slow kiss, taking their time, his patience ended, was diminished as he tasted nothing but love and devotion, feelings so unexpected for a monster but even creatures dressed in red craved warmth, with no winter mild enough not to have them ask for a fire to warm their hands. His hand closed around Youngho’s length with intent, moved it just right to allow them to unite, his husbands whisper of his name drowned out by Jaehyun’s tender moan, pleasure and pain entwined, racing up his spine, soaring through his body like a baby bird during its first flight - clumsy, reckless, full of unbroken will to fly and flee, to see the world, experience everything there was to offer, all the things not yet seen.

It was not the world Jaehyun was seeking out, it was their little universe he was reaching for, the bubble filled not with air rising up the sea but these feelings he could not put into words, making his heart race within his chest, beat in tandem with its match. His body was willing, as receiving as his heart, but he could sense the worry filling up his husband’s mind, worry he was intent to eradicate, kisses filled with slow intent, his body moving with tender care. 

“My pearl… Jaehyun… Hyun,” Youngho whispered into their kiss, nothing but a breath between their lips, more movement than sound, but it was all Jaehyun could hear right then. Soft little moans that escaped him in turn, noises he did not dare hold back, not when this, giving his all to the blond, was all about showing he did not want to lock himself in any longer, did not want to hold it in, hold himself back. “Don’t do this… Don’t strain yourself-”

“I want to,” the younger answered shakily, as he finally broke their kiss to do no more than rest his forehead against the blond’s, a fragile smile on his lips. He could tell what this was about, could feel the stress this put on his body, for regardless of their active nights, they had never done it like this, without Youngho first making sure he was well prepared and ready, body pliant enough to take the older in, and it wasn’t as bad as it could be, but neither was it was easy as they were both used to. The lack of oil, his tensing body, the tender ache he felt creep up his spine, they all told him to take it slow, to take his time, but time was not what he wanted to have. To feel as close as possible, be connected in ways nothing could compare to, feel like one, bodies melting into one grand scheme, a red mark on the map of fate, he wanted no more than this, to be filled with these truths he had to accept, express these words he did not dare say. “I want you,” he repeated for emphasize, could not help himself adding just that, words that felt so right, confession he could spill without restraint, had his heart flutter in his chest as he looked down.

Before, some times they had spent like this, he had imagined it was not him Youngho was looking at, that he inevitably was compared to the man of the older’s dreams, that boy on the beach he had watched grow up, the Jaehyun who was nothing but an illusion of the real him. There had been distance between them, craving he could not comprehend, understanding he did not possess, and maybe he hadn’t been wrong, neither had he been right. Today had showed him the same, that it was not the Jaehyun kept inside dreams Youngho had meant to reach, not an illusion he had meant to touch, an empty body, with no words said, no answers given. It was the Jaehyun he had to reach through reality, an ideal painted at nighttime, the Northern star he had to head towards if he lost his aim, the light at the end of the lane to show him he had arrived home.

The him made up inside dreams was just that, fairies playing tricks, fate being a scheming old lady, because dreams were not the path one took in reality, were an illusion, foolery of the mind. Like the string tied around his heart, dreams were but a guide, the map to show them where to go, compass guiding their way. 

“I only want you,” he repeated again, more confident this time, and those were the most truthful words he ever had spoken - he did not need no crown, did not need to rule a country, did not look for the easy life he had been promised, did not crave the luxury and wealth, did not wish to be clothed in silk and covered in gold. It was but the knowledge that this man was his, that his heart was in the right place, was kept safe within his husband’s hands. If only for he knew that Youngho’s heart was already residing within his hold, that he wanted to keep it safe, for even a beast’s core was fragile, was his to treat well. “Want you to be all my firsts.”

He did not receive an answer this time around, received no promise of this taking place, no oath they had not already pledged. Instead, with fingers warm around his nape, hitting the pearl hanging from his ear, and their bodies becoming one, a kiss could say more than a thousand words as well. 

◦ ♚ ◦⬩◦ ♕ ◦

The sound of the sea could be heard all around him, sound so calm and gentle, filling his ears like the rustle of leaves. Far away, at the distant end of the horizon, he could see the sun kiss the ocean’s skin, like a kiss on the hand, it was a tender gesture, of distant yearning, of careful handling. Two existences not meant to meet, and yet they met every morning, every eve. 

Behind him, feet hitting the sand resounded, relaxed pace, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the sinking sun. He didn’t flinch when arms wrapped around his body from behind, he only leaned back into a body as warm as his own, familiar comfort of another person keeping him close, hooking their chin over his shoulder, lips meeting his jaw soundly. He didn’t answer to that, did not want to break this moment of ease, inhaled the scent of the sea no longer coming from the front, hint of vanilla and brown hair tickling his cheek. 

His dreams had never been as relaxing. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> **prompt 0033**  
>  _Royalty AU where Johnny - the young Emperor of a big and rich Empire keeps dreaming of a man so beautiful and that makes him so happy he physically aches for him after waking up. He dreams of the sea, of the salty wind, of dimples, of lingering touches and laughs and wakes up with the determination to find him._  
>  Meanwhile, a small Kingdom in the south that has no resources but the sea and the trade it allows keeps losing land to the ever greedy Empire that invaded every other small nation in its surroundings. When the highest general of the Empire (johnny's) dares leading an army all the way to the capital of the small Kingdom, he declares it's either they surrender peacefully or a war shall take place. Jaehyun, the crown prince of the sea nation, determined not to be swallowed whole by the Monster Empire nor be dragged into a war that shall make his people suffer, demands to meet the emperor for negotiations.  
> The Emperor himself came down with the army. (To look for the boy from his dreams that his heart kept telling him was hiding somewhere in this kingdom) Jaehyun's wish is granted, upon seeing him Johnny is frozen. Jaehyun demands peace, Johnny demands Jaehyun as the price.


End file.
